I was raised in pews and prayers Taught to kneel, to trust, to believe That God sees all, knows all, loves all But I look around—and I grieve They say being gay is a sin That love has rules, that hearts must hide They preach purity while ignoring pain And call it faith when they divide They say abortion is murder But ignore the mothers who cry alone They speak of life, but not of choice And silence women down to bone They say racism is over While kids of color still walk in fear They say “God loves everyone” But only if you fit their mirror I see children dying by manmade guns I see bodies buried by greed I see the earth gasping for breath While we poison it with need I see animals chased from their homes Forests falling, oceans choked I see girls growing up too fast And boys taught power through smoke And still they say, “God is good” “God is love,” “God is near” But if He’s watching, if He’s listening Why doesn’t He interfere? Why are women silenced Told their bodies aren’t their own? Why are laws written by men Who’ve never felt what it means to be alone? I want to believe But belief feels like betrayal Of every soul who’s been erased By a system that calls itself sacred So I ask—not with hate, but with hurt Where is He? And if He’s real Why won’t He save us?
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