What Is It God

So many questions for my creator
why you sittin' back like a spectator
while the ghetto take a brothas breath
and all we ever see is death
If you truly made me as a baby
not my momma then why you hate me
take us through this life in fear
send forth all this toil that we must bear
And they just say God has a plan for us
but in honesty how can I trust
When they have always been talkin' false
And now they bear the holy cross
with ya faces on their churches walls
tell me how we could ever come to ya'll
The God that led our enemy
tell me God did you forsee me
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace