I once knew a boy with large glasses
and lips always in a lopsided grin.
We were friends, lovers, and enemies, but mostly just two masochists.
It was during 4th grade at our lunch table where he told me
he didn't believe in God.
5 years later under the scorching sun rays,
I asked him, "Have you ever prayed?"
He said, "Yes, once."
And I wondered, what could break an atheist so badly
they'd get down on their knees, fold their hands and
plead to something they didn't believe in?
"I asked God to bring you back to me."
It's been 2 months since we last spoke,
and I think it's really over this time.
And I'm left to wonder,
does he still pray for me like I pray for him?
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 7:02 PM UTC
I once knew a boy with large glasses
and lips always in a lopsided grin.
We were friends, lovers, and enemies, but mostly just two masochists.
It was during 4th grade at our lunch table where he told me
he didn't believe in God.
5 years later under the scorching sun rays,
I asked him, "Have you ever prayed?"
He said, "Yes, once."
And I wondered, what could break an atheist so badly
they'd get down on their knees, fold their hands and
plead to something they didn't believe in?
"I asked God to bring you back to me."
It's been 2 months since we last spoke,
and I think it's really over this time.
And I'm left to wonder,
does he still pray for me like I pray for him?
Request permission to use this poem