Warning: This piece will likely come off a bit angst. It might also come off sounding like an attack on God or Christianity. If this sort of thing is likely to offend you, please don't read.


I got through the first fifteen years of my life
Narrowly missing death's prying hands.
How come it had to be that landmark
Where God made his devious plans?

All along I thought God hated me for sin,
That I had been paying the price.
I never knew you'd get the ultimate score
Because of His dominating vice.

I never knew the human body was the
Wellspring of so many tears.
But then I'd never been tested to the limit,
Put up against my biggest fears.

What if I burned a bible, lanced a pilgrim,
Would my toll be half as bad?
Could that sort of blasphemy ever be enough
To make a God so mad?

Now that you're gone, part of my heart is missing
And I guess that's God's true attack.
The part of my heart that's been removed
Can never be given back.

Though I'll miss you with all my heart, I know
I've been touched by death's prying hands.
Will this pain swelling in the depths of my heart
Ever be cured by time's golden sands?


A/N: This is dedicated/written about my grandmother who died in February. She had always been a big part of my life, so her death hurt. It's been a huge struggle for me, and a learning experience too. I hope wherever she is, there's no more pain; she was killed by brain cancer. This poem is written in A, B, C, B format, though my rhyming is amateurish.

Rest in Peace - 17/02/10