Facing the Creator

When I face God

At the end of my days

I'll size up the holy spirit

And unleash my wrath

A haze of frustration and malaise

You plucked my heartstrings

Strummed a hymn for my everlasting sorrow

My parents were your children too,

Or I may be mistaken

I haven't stepped foot in your house for years

What test could this life have been

I watch my parents suffer

Being told to find strength within

I know there's not much there--

Your mind can be a mischievous beast

And I'll stand there at the end of it all

Screaming, crying, punching

Emboldening my fists with my pain

Demanding an answer from the know-it-all

But I'm not sure if I'll like the response.