Swearing at God


Today, instead of praying, I wrote
my grandfather get-well-soon cards
for a disease that can’t be cured.
It’s one of those slow motion
kinds of sicknesses that drags
it’s feet across the floor.
It leaves scuff marks on the tiles
until he can’t stand anymore.
Today I saw the scratches play out
in real time. Like a record.
Like he’s got the first verse of things
on replay over & over & over again
until there’s silence.
God, why are you so silent?
I heard somewhere you’ve got a plan,
but some things seem to fall through.
I guess that’s why they call you
the Holy Father, because
I can’t count on you.
How do you see through eyes so holy?
If you’re so holy make him whole again.
I swear to God, I want to have
a little faith in you
but I'm not known for being patient.
Life’s short, you should know that.
You created this.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem