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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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The Darkness That Follows Me #sadpoetry #creativewriting #poem-a-day

There is a darkness
that does not knock before entering.
It lingers quietly in corners,
sits beside me in silence,
follows me into crowded rooms,
and somehow still makes me feel alone.

Some nights it hangs above my head
like heavy storm clouds refusing to rain,
turning simple thoughts into wars
my mind never seems to win.

It whispers old fears back to life.
Reminds me of every mistake,
every wound,
every moment I tried to forget.
And no matter how loudly the world moves around me,
the darkness always knows how to make everything feel still.

People often think darkness looks dramatic.
But sometimes it looks ordinary.
Like smiling while feeling empty.
Like answering “I’m fine” automatically.
Like staring at the ceiling at 2 a.m.
with a mind too tired to keep fighting itself.

It follows quietly.
In exhaustion.
In overthinking.
In the pressure to keep surviving
even when the soul feels worn thin.

But somewhere inside all that darkness,
there is still a small stubborn light
that refuses to die.

A voice that softly says,
“Stay.”
“Rest.”
“Try again tomorrow.”

And maybe healing does not begin
when the darkness disappears completely.
Maybe healing begins
the moment someone realizes
they do not have to face it alone.

© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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