The Pain of the God
For my friend,
James Forte
Being an innocent child,
far away in the mountains
running through the woods
beside streams,
looking at the starry sky,
I have wondered myself:
who am I ?
I went to schools
to learn,
I went to churches
to pray…
Living there
in the village between the mountains,
with people of faith
and respect
I didn't know
than only the good...
Being a teenager,
from there,
from the high mountains
I watched
at the distant
the city...
I saw then:
lies,
robberies,
hatred…
just like Jesus
saw
in the Temple
from Jerusalem...
Late in the evening,
I returned
at the little wooden church
from the village
and in my prayer
I understood the God
why
he didn't make us
immortals…
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
