Sometimes I get angry at the man upstairs.
I feel, if he really cares about me, why would he even let me suffer?
Why would he let so much evil rule the world?
But then, there's a small voice at the back of my head speaking to me
As humans, we're given freewill
And damn right do we misuse it
we all say ''It's freewill afterall right?''
I realize that in the end,
the truth is,
he listens.
God listens.
Our prayers make it before Heaven's gates are closed.
It's Just something we need to ask ourselves....
How often do we sincerely talk to him?
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High Off These Thoughts
PoetryI overthink a lot. I think at some point in life, we all do. This work tells you about deep thoughts and happenings that continue to exist daily, all told in the first person narative. These poems are written in freeverse, and are designed to make t...
