By Kenna
Sometimes I pretend that God is fair
Even telling myself that He is real
Believing that He can care
Sometimes I like to talk to Him
Late at night while everyone else sleeps
I tell him I believe; I tell Him
But most nights I cry myself to sleep
Knowing I have lost my faith and can pretend no more
And that pain, it runs so deep
Killing my hope, driving to my core
Mostly I wish I were still a child
Because children do not question God
I always believed on me He smiled
But even children grow
Even though faith is not its accompaniment
But now I know, now I know...