Why believe that there is a God when he has never helped me?
He was never there to help me through those long days,
When only clouds surrounded me without the sun’s brilliant yellow rays.
Nor was such a figure to pick me up from the ground,
As I found my footing on an oak’s limb and it broke with a cracking sound.
The mighty man was not in sight,
During the nights my dreams were filled of fright.
No gentleman in a halo to steady my breath,
Before my loved one faced her death.
Not a word of guidance was sent my way,
The time I could not make it through one more day.
Comfort did not come from someone in the sky,
To stop the tears rolling from my eye.
A sign telling me it would be okay could not be seen,
Even as my heart was tarred into smithereens.
Loved ones held my hand as I continued to grieve,
Never given help from this being we are told to believe.
Our world is corrupt so much that we cannot ignore,
But no wisdom or guidance is shared with us by the one we call our lord.
He protects us,
Helps us,
He teaches,
He guides,
He saves,
But we are only slaves.
We believe one individual to take the evilness away,
Because it is what we are taught to obey.
But no God has ever picked me up to my feet,
So why must I believe he will come when I face my defeat?