It Can Never Be About Me

Once you’ve been where I’ve been and you’ve seen what I’ve seen…

 then you too would understand that when I pray it can never be about me.

I’ve lived in lands were universal human rights isn’t worth the fight…

it’s a battle that’s been lost too many times.

It’s a dream that isn’t even close in sight

I’ve seen boys die with no other sign then a fever

or a little girl lose an arm because they couldn’t properly treat her.

I’ve seen strength that we can only dream of.

I’ve seen despair and desperation from wickedness and

 lack of brotherly love.

I’ve seen hope and faith that puts my strongest day to shame.

People who pray everyday for a better next

instead of complaining, pinpointing someone to blame.

I’ve expressed tears, laughs, smiles, pain, and silence.

My mind is in a constant race,

my heart in a constant ache as faces flash;

stories of these peoples past are now my constant memories.

They will forever be stamped inside of me.

I have feelings of frustration, constantly thinking

‘How’d I get so lucky?’ ‘How did I get so blessed?’

When I witness these societies living in constant molest.

While I am showered with opportunities, I was born in the West.

So when I say my prayers each night I keep these feelings in mind.

I hold each story I hear inside. And when I send them up?

I send them with sincerity,

trusting that it reaches our Lord in full clarity,

hoping my voice is one of familiarity. 

Because when you’ve been where I’ve been and you’ve seen what I’ve seen…

then you too would understand that when I pray it can never be about me.