A Poem: Chairs

Stacking chairs has become my lament. I can’t help but think of all the time that I’ve spent on something that failed in the end. Chattering words and slick tongues have pushed me away from my dreams, but maybe that’s not who I was meant to be. I can’t help but to weep from this ache in my heart for all the time I spent and the late nights hoping that it would be worth something only for it to fade away. Lamentations are declarations that we can’t take this shit, yet it’s all so worth it.

I stand today in a puddle of tears just to see that I don’t really know anything and the more I learn the more I realize I never really know anything, but I do want this one thing: clarity. Life is a vapor and the time we spend is a blur so how will I spend this? When people speak about me behind my back and don’t look me in the eye, what testimony does that leave when they die? Coward.

So once again I stack these chairs and sing a hymn of brokenness. David was broken and murdered a man to cover up his affair with his wife and God accepted him so why won’t you accept me? Why do I have to follow rules and not question? Why can’t I be human? I mean, even Jesus was human. There’s no right way except acceptance and love. It’s not your place to give yourself authority to say that you’re above anyone else so take that pride off the shelf and in its place put humility on display.

Maybe one day I’ll forgive you. Maybe one day I can say that I’ve been forgiven too, but when I’ve done nothing wrong and have heard gossip spread about me then what went wrong? Maybe one day I’ll be strong. Maybe one day I’ll be okay. Maybe one day I can say that I was liberated in a way, but for now I stack chairs and weep “My church, My church, why have you forsaken me?”.

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