To Catch Faith: By C.B.

So they hurt me,
and you were hurt too,
and the scars on my arm----
are nothing compared to the scars in our hearts.
But still,
the silence screams
when the saints are all gone,
and nobody listens,
and we are stuck.
But we believe
and try not to lose faith
even though noone was there
when the damage was done,
and the world preaches guilt---
but doesn't repent,
and the weather is gray.
The soldiers are marching,
painfully leaving their towns,
to go to someone else's.
We watch with fear
when towers fall in ours.
Loud angry voices
tell us to hate,
and we wonder----
where is our God, of love,
from sunny Sunday school classes,
and young hearts
wanting to believe that
God is there
and really does care,
and we are all "precious in his sight".
When love finally arrives,
after a lifetime of pain,
and someone tells us that
what was said was all a lie,
and we are sitting
in a white room,
in a white chair,
in the middle of nowhere,
arms stretched out----far,
crucified by doubts and fear,
that their anger
will enter our lives,
and we will also lose our love, but most of all
our faith.