I remember when I first read your book,
all the wonderful things that you have done.
So I asked mum when I would get to meet you,
she said, 'Hopefully not for a long time, precious one.'

When I asked the old man when he would see you,
he said 'Probably in a little while.'
I asked if I could go with him to meet you,
he shook his head and walked away with a smile.

The man in robes preached of your kindness,
and I asked him why you never spoke to me.
He said 'Open your heart dear child,
he is always there, you just need to see.'

I remember when I screamed aloud for help,
when I prayed for you to take away my tears.
There was no guiding voice, there was no guidance,
that was when my faith disappeared.

I will always question your existence,
and I think that that is fair.
If I have never seen you, heard or felt you,
why should I believe that you are there?