Sunday
Tired and alone
I stare at my sorry reflection
I engage in conversation but there’s no response
Just vacant eyes staring back into my void
Children run past my window unaware of the brutality of this world
Innocent, but soon to fall foul of the despair of life
I force a smile in memory to my own childhood
I remember being happy, but can’t recall how that felt
Today is Sunday
The good people will go to church and praise their God
What praise could I offer to this demon of men
He has not mind-washed me or taken control
But he still has a hold of me
Squeezing every inch of existence out of me
I will die, of that I can be sure
But not with guilt or sin hanging around my neck
Hell will greet me with open arms
Heaven is not there for me, no God waiting
He left me long ago and left me to the wolves
These wolves snap and snarl
But I am no longer scared of their teeth
I want them to take a bite
But it seems they prefer to watch me suffer first
I have survived another week
I look forward to beating this God by living another week
He is testing me, but I am not giving up
Not yet, but maybe tomorrow
I’ll no longer have the strength or desire to fight
We’ll have to wait and see