We have faith.

We have doubts,
commensurate 
with
unknown fears and
undetermined factors.

That which you feel
I see as well,
differently.

We pretend
we belong.

In many ways
we share the same grief.

We are afraid of 
all the wrong things.
We doubt
our faith.

Everything is temporary,
even our fears.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

April is Poetry Month