by Cera Taylor
Is anyone there? Does anyone hear me?
I can’t go on, this pain is too deep,
I’m sitting on my floor as I begin to weep.
Life has no meaning, so what’s the point.
So, I’ll throw it away and go smoke this joint.
My so-called friends, they don’t understand.
This pressure is too much, it’s too big, too grand.
I don’t know what to do, how to deal, how to cope.
I don’t know what’s real, I don’t have any hope.
I’m asking if God is there, if He hears me or if I’m wrong.
And wondering if anyone would really miss me when I’m gone.
I’m sitting on this floor, weeping, crying.
I hate this pain; it feels like I’m dying.
No more hope, and all my dreams are shattered.
I’ve reached a new level of darkness, and my life doesn’t matter.
I’m sitting, I’m weeping, I’m crying some more
Again, while I’m still on this floor…
This floor…
That floor, I will never forget.
And that pain that I felt, I will never regret.
Out of that darkness, I found new hope.
Because the moment I gave up, that’s when God spoke.
I don’t know how, or why He chose to see me.
But that was the moment He came to set me free.
Cera Taylor
Poet
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