Why the hell do I still write verses,
When the scripture is the only words hurting,
An abundance of of poems of stories just like mine
But never will you find an artist who performs gospel on primetime

This ain't a poem about hyper-religiousness
At times, my view is post sac-religiousness
Still believe
Like the fairy tales we read
When we were younger, realest friends we had were make believe

Momma always told me God is more than visible
Matter-of-factly, to the world, he's indispensable
Its funny that the most I pray is over supper
When I try to kneel before him, all I let loose is a stutter
Of the thoughts that that I'm thinking when I think that I am thinking

Lord I never really knew
How to speak with someone closely, when they're absent in my view
Or how to love you when my arms just wrap around the air I fume
Because nobody stands before me, hope you understand this mood

Although,

Heard you forgive before we ask of you
So why do people go to hell if you're so loving dude
Oh, I see,
Only welcome those who welcome you
I guess thats why I hate my father, though I'm not supposed to
Take it out on mom, see
She's the closest to apparent,
Of the pain you left inside me, that's so clearly that she understands,
Just need one conversation with him lord I plead of thee
and my devotion of you is eternity
To make sense out of the way a man can easily make a child,
Yet walk away as if I have been buried in the ground,
6 feet