It Can

by R. Bentz Kirby

Time was I thought, "It can't get any worse." It can. Darkness that envelopes, Sinking that strips away, Worry that murders hope, Light that seems illusory. What God is there to hear my cry? My eyes are lifted up, But help does not come. My hopes are offered up, An unworthy sacrifice. My dreams are actualized, An unholy trauma lost. What God is there? What hope is there? Why do I try? Anxiety is my brother, Depression is my mother, My father left home, And it can get worse. The question is, Can it get better? Faith says work on brother. Faith says work on. My shoulder is to the wheel. A tired angel seeking rest, Among the meek and humbled mass. To the wheel, to the wheel. It can.