Weary Faith — a poem of standing up against hate

A LaCharta inspired by Shakespeare’s Sonnet 66

Esther Spurrill-Jones
The Word Artist
Published in
2 min readSep 20, 2024

--

A woman wearing heavy plate armour, her head bare.
Image by Stadnik from Pixabay

I am exhausted every day
With those who smile and then betray;
Who must be seen to loudly pray,
While on the powerless they prey.
They call upon the highest Name
As if on God they have a claim.

Behind their grins they hide their sneers
While soothing patrons’ itching ears;
They tell them what they want to hear,
Exploit and profit from their fears.
They’ve traded truth for charming lies,
And in this life they have their prize.

The poor and hungry they deny;
They view with scorn the victim’s cry;
Our suffering they justify
And, once again, they crucify
The innocent; their hands are red.
They turn their back on all the dead.

O Love, I know that only You
Can save us. Show me what to do.
Give me the courage to break through,
The skill to demonstrate what’s true,
The strength to stand when I am weak,
And help me find the words to speak.

--

--

Esther Spurrill-Jones
The Word Artist

Poet, lover, thinker, human. Poetry editor at Prism & Pen.