The Passenger

This poem is a follow-up to the previous post.

I found myself in anger, I cried out in despair.I prayed, "Lord let them hear me! Let just one person care!"

I raised my voice to heaven as the train kept moving on, as we passed behind the church yard! I could hear the worship songs.

I cried out all the louder to the Christians there inside, but they raised the chorus louder not hearing me outside.

I knew they heard the whistle and the clacking of the tracks. They knew that I was going to die and still they turned their backs.

I said, "Father in heaven how can your people be so very hard of
hearing to the cry of one like me? I shouted, "Please have mercy! Just a prayer
before I die!" But they sang a little louder to the Holy One on High.

They raised their hands to Heaven but the blood was dripping down. The blood of all the innocent their voices tried to drown.

They have devotions daily, they function in My Name, and they never even realized it was I upon that train.--Penny Lea