Double door entrance, rows of chairs, cleared out space; for people to gather there.
The youth of our ministry all gather 'round, using the sanctuary as a temporary play ground.
Lining up to play four square,
And in a circle girls play volleyball.
I walk into the room, and take a seat, watching them all.
They laugh and chime and smile like all is right in the world, but I know all their secrets. Their lying between their teeth, everyone has a dark secret secluding underneath.
These teenagers look up to a broken ministry.
The children admire suicidal teens.
And in the mist of it all a little vouce rings; "Never trust what you see, for nothing in life is exactly how it seems."
YOU ARE READING
Poems of a Lost Girl
PoetryA collection of poems written on my free time, they are mostly all free-style so stanzas and patterns may not always add up exactly but I assure you it staggers the quality hardly at best. I believe a poem can tell you a lot about a person, their i...
