Solomon Storm Poet Prose Poetry

For Love

for love
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home from church again
a few minutes went by
before my first sin
sometimes i cry

a cigarette, the breath of death
to console a lonely heart
i guess at least it isn't meth
but it might be a start

the love of Jesus gives me hope
to try again to find a friend
my chest hurts, it's hard to cope
sometimes i seek the end

i want to live, though
yet not alone throughout
sometimes i just go
seeking who or what i'm all about

maybe to another state far from here
to be someplace i know and love
or a place i've never been, it's clear
i'm living here, but thinking above

i sometimes fear that i will never find
the place where i was meant to be
a place with people, yet peace of mind
people to care for, yet still to be free

i found in God a cure for hopelessness
in Jesus a ration of passion
i thought back then that He would bless
like of olden days, in Biblical fashion

yet here i am alone at home
and there everybody went, with me without
my thoughts and hopes are chrome
still spotted with rust colored doubt

that i will ever have a Christian friend
whose friendship is actual, not implied
whose time he would happily spend
with a weakling who broke down and cried

for love

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Susan Mills January 25, 2010 at 10:28 AM i really like your line "my thoughts and hopes are chrome still spotted with rust colord doubt"-- and atleast your cigarette wasn't meth.