Some how time goes on
But I feel trapped in the past
No matter what I do I can't be free
I prayed to god to end this lie
To take the pain from me
Here I am still alive
And I've learned to create my life
My hatred is my guiding hand
Regret is something I'll always have
But one day I'll take back
Everything you took from me
I've learned one thing in my time
Jesus never loved
And god never cared
A great poem, really like it. A good write. May i invite you to read my poem called, Indian Brave.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What is a god but a sad little sod with the power to do what he will? Where is the proof of a glorious truth in the message of blood in the till? How are we here in this nice little mere but to dance with the passing of time? Who is reflected in mirror and maze but a god just awaiting the chime?