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 I tried to talk to God today.

But the words? They wouldn't come out.

Does it mean that my faith is DOA

If I can't find any words to say?

Can't entreat or pray or shout.

Wouldn't have thought to try and prepare 

For a day when my voice just wasn't there

To ask for a blessing, forgiveness, or hope;

To cry out for mercy at the end of my rope.


There's no pain or sadness or anything.

Just a hole where there wasn't before.

Or maybe the hole has been there for years

And the last of my hope just leaked out.

Not that it matters with bills to pay

And kids to insure and a house to maintain.

I can't wonder whether God is real

If invoking him pays for their next meal.

No matter how fucking depressed I feel,

For their sake I'll just continue to deal.


It would be funny if it wasn't so sad 

That it's my job to peddle something I can't have.

Like a wine seller allergic to grapes

Or a bee who hates pollen;

No matter how I feel, I'm all in.

Hopefully the next time I need to talk to God

I can fake it and make it through.

Maybe someday I'll want to pray

And my heart will still know what to do.

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