A Phenomenon
I doubt that if there is a God he does harm
He is well meaning and kind
But tell me why the pain continues
The suffering throughout the lands he created
Did he plan all of this when he created the sixth day, Man?
His previous days were flawless,
Beauty of the water and lands, even the animals
But when Man was introduced to the world,
Evil joined him
The greed overpowered them all
But was it on purpose?
Or a fatal flaw that is slowly destroying what he created
I look up at the sparkling silver stars each night
And try to see the Heavens
Trying to see the man we call God
To ask him why the pain continues.
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Poem of the Day: Yet Do I Marvel
BY COUNTEE CULLEN
I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind,
And did He stoop to quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh that mirrors Him must some day die,
Make plain the reason tortured Tantalus
Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare
If merely brute caprice dooms Sisyphus
To struggle up a never-ending stair.
Inscrutable His ways are, and immune
To catechism by a mind too strewn
With petty cares to slightly understand
What awful brain compels His awful hand.
Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet black, and bid him sing!
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