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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 Man I Left in the Ruins #spokenwordpoetry #poetryaddict #poem

Take him.

He is no longer a wound
I am compelled to touch,
nor a prayer
I am foolish enough to repeat.

He is merely the ruin
I walked out of
with my hands still trembling
and my soul learning
the shape of its own name.

You may have him.

Take the mouth
that once promised forever
and learned the language of betrayal.
Take the hands
that held me
only to teach me how to ache.
Take the heart
that mistook possession
for devotion.

Take all of him,
the carefully rehearsed apologies,
the beautiful lies,
the silences sharpened into weapons,
the affection that arrived
only when I had forgotten
how to ask for it.

I have no claim on him now.

He is yesterday's ash,
and I have no desire
to rebuild a fire
from what already burned me.

If he calls himself a treasure,
believe him.

I once did too.

I polished his brokenness
with the softness of my own heart,
mistaking endurance for love,
mistaking survival
for a marriage worth saving.

But some men are not meant
to be rescued by love.

Some are simply lessons
wearing a human face.

So take him.

Wear his promises
if they still fit you.
Sleep beneath the shelter
of his carefully constructed stories.
Call him yours
if the word brings you comfort.

I will not compete.

I have already won
the moment I stopped
wanting what was destroying me.

He is not the man I lost.

He is the man
I finally left behind.

And what I left behind
is no longer my burden.

So, sister...

you may take over.

Take the throne
I once mistook for a cage.

Take the crown
I learned was made of thorns.

I am walking toward a kingdom
where I need no man's permission
to be whole.

Keep him.

I have something
far more precious now:

the woman
I almost lost
trying to love him.

© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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