Praying Hands

I'm writing poetry. I love poetry. I'm Writing about God. I love God pause. A question ponders through my mind. and so I ask myself. Which do I love more? Poetry. or God? hmm. metacognition. Let's think for awhile.. I write with the hands I pray with. I pray for the stories I write about. I write about people who hide behind pens, As if pens can be made into saviors. Saviors CAN be made out of ink. Until the ink runs out. Then you find yourself Walking around Asking people If you can borrow their Gods. I mean, pens.