Doubting

by Inés Villalobos Finigan aged 16

I wish I could see God.
I suppose that is like asking,
when will the world end?
I wish he would an angel send to speak to me, his child.
I know,
it sound crazy and wild
but I do want to see God.
I want to see his splendour
and in a way, I want to, well,
I want to know if what I believe
is true.
I try not be the Doubter,
that was Thomas, saint, you know.
I should not stoop that low.
But how can we believe what we
cannot see?
Yes, we have the miracles
but I did not see them.
It might just be hypocrisy,
it might just be a lie.
So why can’t God just come down once
and come and see me here?
there’s no need for a hoo-ha,
an angel will do
or a star,
something out of normal
that proves that God exists.
But anyway who cares?
I believe in God,
and for you, that’s all that matters
so there’s no use trying to flatter
me with words that make me doubt.
I say to you from me:
“Get behind me Satan”
but maybe, second thoughts, no
because you don’t believe what I do.
I could just meow and moo
and it’d make no difference to you.
But I ask one thing from you,
yes, just one.
I ask you to stop my doubting
the God I’ve learnt to love.
I ask you: would
as every man should,
stop temptations in my way
and, well, I simply say,
stop making me doubt.

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