I Promise, I Am Fine

There is no God. But when hope is gone, I’m on my knees.
The trees have frittered away. But my palm holds the leaves.
The cup is always half full. But it never quenches my thirst.
My limp heart hopes for the best. But it expects the worst.
I stand between the sea of bodies. But I am alone.
I remain under the roof of my house. But I wish for home.
My fingers stroke your skin. But I don’t feel a thing.
My hands will always take. But they will never bring.
The clocks are shattered. But I am out of time.
My wallet explodes green. But I won’t spare a dime.
My body aches for water. But the tub is full of kerosene.
The disease dwells inside me. But I deny the vaccine.
I whisper, “Love me.” But I scream, “Stop!”
The key burns my pocket. But the cage remains locked.
I dare preach the words we’re too afraid to say. But I have no tongue.
I breathe the warm gentle breeze. But I have no lungs.
I can see the world better than most. But I am blind.
My ribs are broken. But I promise, I am fine.

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Tags:

alive, bad, bathe, blind, breeze, dead, fine, god, good, kerosene, life, lungs, poem and worst