Tag: Sad Poetry

  • Tell Me

    I have run out of ways
    to save myself.

    That is the truth of it.

    I have prayed.
    I have worked.
    I have swallowed the fear
    and called it a day.

    And tomorrow,
    I will get up
    and do it all again.

    But tonight,
    God,
    if You are listening,

    I have nothing left
    to make this sound
    like faith.

    I am just a woman
    standing here
    with her hands out,

    and I cannot remember
    the last time
    anything
    fell into them.