Poem: Complain

Photo credit: Wesley Hilario

Bottle up inside, issues many want to dismiss,

Ignore, decline, run and hide:

Pastor preach, “if you’re sad, hurt, angry,

Act out and refuse to feel sorry,

Fill with wrath, have something against

Your brother, take it to the Lord first—not Harry!”

He will solve your problems,

Like running water in a bottle overflow,

Feel as if God won’t quench an empty soul:

Thinking the Lord had enough of complain,

That seems—prayer is in vain, unresolved,

Still, take it to the Lord first and watch

How much he will be there in a hurry,

Answered each letter, whisper—prayer,

If you lay all your sin on to him, truly—not Harry,

And stop being unruly you will see the meekness,

Of his majestic beauty and “your heart will be merry!”

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