God Made Me A Door Poem by Robert Joseph Martines Mr

Maybe, one day when silence is loud enough to hear
we'll open the door instead of stacking bodies
 
They say, "Where's God? " when the blood hits the floor,
As if He didn't carve light into every corner before.
But truth is, He built the door—
And we locked it.
Stacked our fears like bricks and blocked it.
Then cried when no light shined through.
 
This was never a flaw in the plan,
Just a flaw in the hands of man.
Given a garden, bought a shovel
Given a Son…
we played holy telephone
Game took too long
Judge is dead
 
 
And God didn't fail
But we found a way to sell mirrors
And bend love,
to try and justify hell
 
God bought me a five dollar door
And my thoughts have me stuck on this side
I punched a hole through it
Light shines through so properly 
 
Everyone once in a while somebody comes to visit me
And they stack up
Weather is overcast
And the light becomes a mystery
 
The cracks in the door no longer glow
Too many bodies blocking the rays
I can't blame the builder for how we fill these hallways