Church Pews
As we pull to park the car.....
alone
it's my
deepest scar.
We lock things up,
grab hands,
heading off
to face our truths.
Big kisses,
hopeful wishes,
and suddenly I'm by myself.
Shake hands with strangers,
smile,
and scoot.......
Adjusted comfortably
in my pew.
I hear my message,
I cannot help but weep.
My head is low,
so that no one can know......
everything inside of me is weak.....
the pastor continues to speak.
My body is filled
with comforting chills,
all the sudden....
life isn't about thrills.
Softly I cry,
gently wiping my eyes.
facing each of my lies.
Lights come up,
we start to sing,
this faith....
such a beautiful thing.
One moment out of my week,
one moment,
I turn the other cheek.
I don't see my future,
but I can see my past...
the steps
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poem by JAR Poet
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