Pray

By Cailynn Culver

Hands clasped tight,
Palms sweaty,
Legs burning.

Eyes moist,
Throat dry,
And thoughts racing.

We sing together,
We pray together,
And we eat together.

When it’s all over,
You leave that room
And ask one simple question,

The question of a child,
Who is simply curious.

‘Is God real?’

Their eyes glare,
And their lips form something,
That’s no longer a smile.

Fear rises within you,
Like it never has before.

They berate you,
And they yell at you,
But they don’t answer you.

They tell you it’s real,
But don’t tell you how they know.

That night in your room,
You get down on your knees,
And pray.

You pray late into the night.

You pray for someone,
Or something,
To answer you.

But nothing does.
And no one will.

–

Cailynn Culver is an aspiring author from northern Colorado. She loves drawing, writing, and making music.