Dear God,

I am just a grain of sand.

I am no one special;  no special talent

With a Hidden Agenda

I speak from the hearts and confess what mind suppresses.

One question: How much longer will hate win?

Two Questions: How much longer shall our children suffer?

Three Questions: When is it ok to hate? When Is it okay to withdraw my love, and hold what’s left and sacred deep within my heart?

Are all men not created equal? Are we not your creations, and you our creator? It is your voice that which shakes the oceans, howls the wind; ceases trepidatious storms, makes the sunshine; fresh dew drops on each leaf, and a cool breeze?

Are you this God I speak of? Are you this God I’ve read about, dreamed about and desire?

I just speak from the hearts of my people.

When will the spread of innocent blood on our streets end?

Lady Justice, why are your eyes still covered? Lady Justice do you hear the screams from the grave, from the prevalence of injustice and shouts from the living who are shouting and not being heard, and when silent they are then accused. Lady Justice, when will you put an end to this?

If my skin is not white as snow, and eyes as blue as the sky, my voice is limited, my life is non-equivalent, my rights are non-existent, but my money is appreciated. Lady Justice you’ve helped the 1% and failed the public. Were your slaves, working for dimes and pennies while you shit gold and your urine flows out diamonds; at our, the public, the other 99% expense.

I walk around with an empty stomach, while your latte is $7 bucks. I’m visible during the holidays, but 352 days a year, my face is invisible. I’m hungry, will you feed me. My child is malnutrition, will you feed them.

We attend church to pray and worship an invisible God with the hope of tangible and miraculous answers. So we grip faith with our lingering, cavity and plaque-filled teeth.

Does anyone hear me? Does anyone see me? Am I relevant? Am I a person; a human being? Does my blood no longer shed red? Does my heart no longer matter?

To ignore my cries, and cover your stains you medicate me. Ativan, Prozac, Xanax, Morphine, and Oxycotin. Now I’m addicted and to fix it I’m not relying on Methadone and treated like a criminal when in reality I’m your scientific experiment (me) went wrong.

Oh God, do you see my arms? Oh  God, do you hear your people desperate of a savior a new home? Oh God, show yourself! NO longer be silent. I hear the chaos when I need to hear your peace and feel your love.

One thing that remains

One thing that’s the same

The Rich and Poor Alike

The healthy and sick alike

The Mentally Ill and Addict alike

We all have a void, an empty presence

We all have questions and no answers

We all bleed red, and we’re running out of band-aids

We all crave like a drug

We all feel empty at the end of each day

Crave that gun, but we know there are not bullets

We crave a God, a creator, a universal presence

Not to fix problems

But to give the Earth, your Bride a hug

We crave God and his voice

We are like children throwing a tantrum, yelling “look at me; look at me”

And hoping for a father, to open his arms

Lift us up, and embrace us

To feel safe once again

To know that and comprehend the words “I love you, my beloved”

To be tucked in bed

And provided a nights rest

Trials and Tribulations won’t stop, hunger won’t end, poverty won’t end

Until the day Jesus returns

So we must endure like a good soldier, thankful for our journey; for it pushes us closer to HIM

In HIM we ARE

In us is HIM

We are with HIM until the end and beyond the timing of man

May God be with us.