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TITLE: Pray
By marcella franseen
07/07/11
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This is my first poem. Any feedback, good or bad, is welcome.
As I wake in the morning and do my hair,
A 14 yr old is trapped in the enemy’s lair.
She is forced to work the night shift selling her body.
Her soul’s still her own, but it’s broken and bloody.

As I pour myself coffee and eat my egg,
A mother holds her son as he sobs with each ache.
His stomach is empty, days without food.
Her mother’s heart breaks, what else can she do?

As I get in my car and drive my kids to the pool,
A young boy wanders, he's afraid, but no fool.
His village is plundered, for his family it’s too late.
If he lets the guerillas catch him, he’ll become what he hates.

As I go online to consume, purchase, and buy,
A man is beaten, imprisoned and left to die.
Teaching others about Jesus is the only reason.
It’s a crime in his country akin to treason.

As my husband returns home at the end of the day,
Another family’s dad is running away.
He has betrayed his wife and crushed his kids.
They can’t help but wonder, “Is it something we did?”

As I tuck my three kids all safe in their beds,
And kiss the tops of their little sweet heads,
A mother contemplates aborting her child,
Scared this baby will cost her a “life worthwhile.”

As I then lie in bed, grab my Bible to read,
God reminds me of all those around me in need.
“What can I do?” I say to the wall.
“I’m only one person. How can I save them all?”

“Trust in me as I work out my plan,
And embrace the important role I’ve given to man.
As a child of mine you can intercede,
On behalf of the suffering and those in need.”

I climb out of bed and get on my knees.
I cry out to God with petitions and pleas.
How had I missed that through prayer I can fight
For those whose days are an endless night?

And God, in His sovereignty, has promised
To hear my prayers and answer in earnest.
Then when He reaches down and touches a life,
I'm a small part of ending their strife.
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