RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Beads Of Prayer
Sunlight penetrating this cloudy mind, beckoning it to
awaken this early morn.
Travesties availed over these last few years, causing
life to silently stop within.
All the turmoil is wound like a spring in a grand-
father's watch - tightly letting very tiny increments
of release become seconds in time.
Beads of prayer lie in wait, hoping to ease the strain
others place upon me.
Words written on paper, like a soft-spoken poet,
portraying reality, facing storms silently with faith
held closely, afraid of not speaking aloud about
atrocities the city of Phoenix has heaped upon this
simple Italian woman who has done nothing wrong.
But has been wronged by city employees banding together
to hide mistakes they've made, and lies they've told,
to cover themselves and blacken their souls before God.
Sunlight has penetrated this sleepy mind, waking it
fully and reminding it to pick up the beads of prayer
and faithfully begin praying for God's love and help
against them all.
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