I'm a poet, an honest poet and I need to say
That I'm a poet, a poet that cannot pray
The words I have are not for above
But the words I have are still filled with love
Words of beauty, words so true
Words of wisdom, words for you
Years have past, since I could pray
But I still would like to send hope your way
What hope can I give, what thoughts can I share
To tell you I love you, to remind you I care
You've shared your struggles, your aches and your pain
Hoping I can send prayers to God again
But those days are done, those years are through
When prayer was a thing I could do
I'd rather be honest, than a hypocrite
It's not "I don't want to", I just don't believe it
I don't believe a lot of things, that much is real
But all that is irrelevant to what I now feel
I feel like I want to give you some love
In the words of a poem, and one day, a hug
No words can express my compassion for you
My heart breaks for what you are going through
Am I less of a friend because I can't pray
Or can I still send some hope and love your way
© Ruby Neumann
Poet's note:
Written: May 23, 2020
Poetry has a way of bringing out the truth that the poet would rather remain hidden. And why is there a temptation to hide the truth. Fear… a lot of fear… The fear of being known, the fear of being revealed, the fear of falling short, the fear of not measuring up, the fear of being week...
But I have a greater fear… the fear of being a hypocrite. That fear drives me to uncover a simple truth… the truth revealed in this poem. This is not the first time I have revealed this truth, but after another prayer request came through today, I felt that I needed to reveal it again.
I have no defence, only confession. I don't need converting, I don't need fixing, I only need understanding and love.
