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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 Fortune They Saw #sadpoetry #poetryaddict #spokenwordpoetry

They said she came for silver,
for the fortune and the name,
for rooms where chandeliers
made even darkness shine like flame.

They called her heart a marketplace,
her marriage bought and sold;
they never saw the winter
beneath the glittering gold.

They saw the diamond on her hand,
but not the tremor in her breath;
they saw the mansion's marble halls,
but not the rooms that felt like death.

They counted every gift he gave,
each velvet, jewel, and rose,
but never counted sleepless nights
or wounds no mirror shows.

They hated her for having
what they thought she came to take;
they painted greed upon her face
and called her love a fake.

But gold cannot buy tenderness,
nor wealth make cruelty kind;
a gilded cage is still a cage
when sorrow lives inside.

She learned to walk through quiet rooms,
to swallow every plea,
to wear her pain beneath her skin
where no one else could see.

And when at last she left the house,
they waited for her greed,
for jewels tucked beneath her coat,
for treasures she would need.

But she carried nothing with her
except the breath she saved,
a heart still beating underneath
the life he thought he owned and caged.

She left the gold.
She left the name.
She left the walls of stone.

And chose the only wealth
that never should have been denied,
the right to call her life her own.

So let them keep their whispers,
their hatred, and their lies.

They saw the fortune he possessed;
she saw the cost behind his eyes.

She never wanted what he had.
She only wanted love.

And when love became a weapon,
she chose freedom over gold.

© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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