Angry with God
Margaret V.Doran
I’m angry with God
I suppose in time He will forgive me
but for now . . .
how can I survive when nothing creative is left?
when I can’t make music
my voice given over to medicine to keep my bones healthy
and my poor violin with a broken string
sits under the sofa in a case
more ancient even than I
my poetry is gone
I don’t know where
and for whatever reason
I’ve lost the gift of sketching that was mine
for fifty years
God is in control yet He allowed the music
to be stilled
and the poetry of my heart to be silenced
and there are no more faces in my fingertips
I’m angry with God
or hurt
or devastated
or something so hopeless
I can’t even name it
Copyright © 2004 Margaret V. Doran.
All rights reserved.
If you enjoyed this poem, please send her an e-mail here.
Updated September 12, 2004
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