I’m not interested in writing poetry
about God anymore,
I found God and yet
the emptiness is still
holding out
like it has a grudge,
like it’s waiting for something
big to happen
like there’s a curtain draw
already in motion
ready to be pulled shut
when the show has
ended
With all of this theater,
all of this drama,
where will I be left to
fend for myself
when the crowd throws their flowers
I’m starting to think the show
isn’t about me
it’s about everybody else
Dec 22, 2025
Dec 22, 2025 at 3:32 PM UTC
I’m not interested in writing poetry
about God anymore,
I found God and yet
the emptiness is still
holding out
like it has a grudge,
like it’s waiting for something
big to happen
like there’s a curtain draw
already in motion
ready to be pulled shut
when the show has
ended
With all of this theater,
all of this drama,
where will I be left to
fend for myself
when the crowd throws their flowers
I’m starting to think the show
isn’t about me
it’s about everybody else