Blue PaintA Poem by AliceBlue. The walls are blue. -Were blue. Now, the paint chips. This used to be a house of god. No one lives here now. -We use our voices to fill the empty space. We sing so that we know we are alive, In this house of god. In the house of a god who turned on his people, He turned too many times. Now his house is empty. People used to praise him here. Welcome her in her Sabbath dress. Now there is no one. We pray. We pray to a god that turned his back, -Too many times he turned. We sing to see if he is listening. We turn our backs as if the Sabbath bride is shy, But we know the truth: She is not coming. God doesn’t live here anymore. © 2010 AliceAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on December 27, 2010 Last Updated on December 28, 2010 AuthorAliceAboutOf late, I have been using poetry as a therapeutic device. I have been showing my poems to one of my best friends, and she showed me this website. She told me that perhaps some people here might be ab.. more..Writing
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