Religious poems

Poetry On Odyessy: When God Took My Hand

But know that I am your God


The first poem that I have ever written. It was on a Sunday night at 9 pm and I was sitting on my bathroom floor thinking about God. His perspective of myself. It came out just the way it is written. I always go back to this when I need that reminder.

When God Took My Hand

When God took my hand he said hold it tight.

When God took my hand he said don't pick a fight

cause I know the plans that you do not see

just promise to keep on living your life for me.

When God took my hand he said look in my eyes

do you see the beauty that lies inside?

I know you're scared, I know you feel weak

I know you think that your dreams will never be.

But know that I am your God

Just stand firm in your faith, don't let the valley escape the dreams you want to chase.

I am in you and you are in me so lets us together sing Glory Be.

Glory be to the light that shines deep in me.

I know you want things to brighten up

but listen, my child, you are enough.

I love you more than you'll ever know

so just keep pushing through the snow

It will melt, the hard will end, and the joy will begin.

I don't want you to miss out on what I have for you within.

When God took my hand he said come and follow me

I know what is best for you wait and see.

I know it's hard to trust

but I know what you need to adjust.

Don't be afraid, I am good, and know your heart is wearing thin.

Take my hand and we will walk through this till the day ends.

My grace is sufficient and I will keep you strong.

I will be right there to catch you when you fall

and I will walk right beside you through it all.

And always remember that I am your God

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Growing Up Catholic And How It Shaped Me

"I like being able to believe there is more to life than our time on Earth."


Ever since I can remember, I have attended church every Sunday morning. Not always at the same church, but always at the same time with all the same people. I've never known anything different.

Both of my parents are Catholic and so are their parents and so on and so forth. I attended religious education classes my whole childhood and when I was 15, I chose to get confirmed which basically says you are choosing to continue your faith.

As a kid, I didn't really understand why we went to church every Sunday and there were some Sundays where I just didn't want to get out of bed to go. When I'm on the verge of not going to mass I tell myself that it is just 1 hour of my time, 1 hour each week and that is all I have to give. Everyone has 1 hour to spare.

Now that I am older, I'm grateful my parents have introduced me to the Catholic Church. I like having something to believe in and being able to have faith. I'm a huge optimist in my daily life and a big part of that is because I trust God's plan for me, whatever happens is with his best intentions for me. I like being able to believe there is more to life than our time on Earth.

It seems that the word "Catholic" has a negative connotation nowadays and that makes me extremely sad. No one should be judged or profiled based on their religion.

Being Catholic to me means always striving to better myself and bring myself closer to God. Being Catholic might mean something else to another person and that's what is great about religion and faith, they affect everyone differently and it is up to you to decide what to do with these 2 things.

At the end of the day, I am grateful for being brought up in the Catholic family I was because it gave me my morals and made me the person I am today, whom I am proud of.

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Poetry on Odyssey: A Lost Writer

Sometimes your best writing comes when you least expect it and when youre in misery. But sometimes it never comes back and your essence slowly diminishes into writers block.


I am lost. She is lost

Writers block is creating a black cloud in my brain

And my fingers can't seem to think freely like they used to

My writing is my livelihood but I haven't had a time to

Introduce my poetry to the new me

She used to write from the abyss of emptiness she felt

A place so dark, darkness itself doesn't dare go in

And it's not like that place is gone

It's not like she could tell her new self to forget and reconstruct

Because from that place, she was born

She lifted herself from the ashes of the paper she burnt

Because she didn't deem it good enough

Because she didn't deem herself good enough

But her self-esteem only lifted her to the point of living

But never feeling alive

So she would spill her guts on the paper

Her beating heart dripped of red ink

And for those few pages, she was alive

But that part of her has slowly whittled

She tries to enjoy the little things now

To make an effort to go out with friends and leave the house

However, the constant moving and refusal to go back

Has left her in an empty abyss within her own writing

A place so empty of words that the silence is deafening

I am happy. She is complicated


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