Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2014
I,
After
Leaving,
Have been in
The most pain,
The most strain.
It’s a good thing
I love His Name.

After leaving I feel lost.
To my life it’s a huge cost.
I find that I have been changed
That my whole life was rearranged.

After leaving my mind tries its best to cope.
It’s almost as if I’ve let go of a rope
And without it I feel so alone.
So I search for a new home.

After leaving I look for new friends.
So that a new chapter I can begin.
But in them I search for what is “wrong.”
For it’s the warmth of welcome my mind longs.

After leaving I see how I’ve been separated
From my sisters whom I am indebted.
I see how I’ve been embedded.
I see where I was headed.

After leaving I see
I was on the path to believe
That if I was to stay in the church
I must see them as the only place to search.

That I must only be with the “brothers” it seems,
That I have to wait ‘till I graduate to search for love.
You must not think you can throw out our God’s dreams
For it’s listening to Him that we find true peace from above.

Our wonderful God wants us to be in love with Him,
Not necessarily to fall in love with his bride.
Yes we should trust and listen to them,
But not if we feel Him from aside,
Whispering in our small ears
Something different,
Something clear.

He told me to leave.
He knew it would be hard.
He knew I would not go at first,
But our Lord, to me, did not bombard.
He did not give up until I was relieved.
It’s all just a balance that is off.
I feel sorry for them.
I wish that this
could come
to an
end


.
.
..

But
Should
I feel sorry
For them? Does
It even make sense
To have these feelings?
For without them I was lost.
Without them I was not soft.
They helped me become
Like the tree.

.
..
...
It’s
Like
Water from
A tap, dripping
On my head
Always

.
..
..
...
Only
To mess
With my mind.
It drips slowly, It isn’t kind.
For it wants me to go on my own,
Instead of keeping God on the phone.
The drops fall on my head one by one,
Little by little my mind comes undone
Perhaps it will never stop dripping,
Perhaps it will not stop ripping
Perhaps it won't stop.

.
..
..
...
When?
Will it stop?
Please stop.
Please.


…................................................­...................................................
…............­.................................................................­..............................................
….................­.................................................................­.................
[composed on April 3-4, 2012]
Will Rogers III
Written by
Will Rogers III  Nashville, TN
(Nashville, TN)   
2.0k
   Mariana Nolasco
Please log in to view and add comments on poems