12/01/2013

AM I?

Who am I?
What am I?
Why am I?
I need a reason.
For how come I am here.
I'm holding my heart in my hands.
It's broken and cracked.
Blood seeps through my fingers.
Making a mess on the floor.
Tears stream down my face.
Falling down to mix with my blood on the floor.
My understanding is finite.
I just fail to see the answers I am looking for.
I am down on my cut and scraped knees.
I am so very weary.
I often find myself down here.
Hopeless is how I feel.
Despair accompanies.
God, who am I to you?
Maybe you can tell me.
I'm not asking much.
Please, just tell me what I need to hear.
Show me where I can find what I am looking
  for.
Even though I'm not sure just what exactly 
  that is.
I'm begging you.
I'm pleading with you.
There has got to be more to me 
  than what I can see.
I'm holding out, I'm holding on, 
  but only just barely.
Here I am waiting.
The silence is deafening.
The silence is killing me.
I know I must be less than nothing.
I just hope that you can see me.
I just hope you can hear me.
God please, just tell me.
Who am I?
What am I?
Why am I?
Is there anything more to me?
Is there more than just the sum of everything
  that I can figure out?
Here I am down on cut and scraped knees.
Oh God please....

SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY-(12/01/2013)

1 comment:

  1. I am not exactly sure of what I am looking for, so I plead of God to tell me. So weary of not being able to overcome my own finiteness. I look to God for everything I need.

    ReplyDelete

I'd love to know what you think of this poem.