They say God makes no mistakes,
He makes no broken machines,
And I believe that.
But does He make spare parts?
Without telling you where they fit?
I am no mechanic.
Does it take a lifetime to figure out?
Trial and error, more error and trials.
And I believe that
I am a spare part that does not fit.
I have talked to mechanics,
They cannot help.
Eyes like the blind windows you can see
On long abandoned buildings,
You can't look in, barely look out.
Salvation must be inside,
In the world, not of the world.
How, then, can one be in the world?
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Comments about this poem (Cogwheel by Jan Hauck )
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