DOES HE, WILL HE, IS HE?
It makes one wonder, it makes one think
It makes one’s heart begin to sink
Is He, will He, does He hear?
Does he consider a child’s fear?
I don’t know and may never will
Is He something or is he nil?
Is He someone in which to believe?
While a child’s mother is given to grieve
I am weary, I am tired
While in the muck of misery I am mired
Headlines scream but are silenced too soon
While I mourn yet another midnight’s moon
Where is He whom so many know,
while my fear and queries grow?
My questions mount like mountains high
Is he a fairy tale or simply a lie?
It makes one wish, it makes one pray
But where is that missing child today?
Newspaper clippings grow yellowed with age
As I highlight the words inked upon an aged page
It makes one’s hope fade like that ink
As one continues to wonder and think
There sit I amidst the pious in pews
As I begin to believe He must ignore the news
Some are found alive and some are found well
Alas too many are lost by the hands of a born-again hell
Too few of the damned ever hear a jail cell slam
And if He is real then I wonder if God really gives a damn
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