BABYLON.

Thu, 10/09/2014 - 09:18 -- CerGio

If there is a God why doesn’t it kill me now?

Sorry, I mispronounced that.

If there is a God why doesn’t it reveal itself to me now?

Now there’s this lingering question:

Is it real?

I asked my conscience, but

We’ve never seen it,

But it made us in it's image,

It's got a good sense of hubris,

We’ve never seen it,

I think I can beat it,

Sorry, I mispronounced that.

I think I want to be it.

Just like the almighty one above,

But I don't want the praise,

Leave the Amen I want an omen.

“I’m angry at you.”

There I go again talking to myself.

 
Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741