Poetry

One ton of guilt pressing hard against my chest.
I try not to let it phase me but I cannot rest.
Feeling the insides of my stomach rise with every breath.
I dont have a clue of what to do.
Some people would look to the sky for Him.
But for Him, to send a miracle chances are slim
Bad things happen to good people
and to justify it by saying He's working in a mysterious way,
now that just sounds evil.
You can have your views and I will have mine.
And Im sure if there is an afterlife I will be just fine.
Because I will choose family over faith
And with morals like that, how could a God hate?