Spiritual Poems

I Walk Through Life Feeling Loved, Not Hated

I walk through life with open eyes,
Beneath the ever-changing skies,
Where whispers warm and glances kind
Have stitched a peace within my mind.

The world is not all sharp and cold,
Not every story harshly told.
In strangers' smiles and friends' embrace,
I find a gentle, sacred place.

Though shadows stretch and moments sting,
Still, kindness moves in everything.
A helping hand, a softened tone—
They prove I never walk alone.

Love wraps around my soul like thread,
It lifts me high, it keeps me fed.
Not on the bread of fleeting praise,
But truth that glows in quiet ways.

I do not dwell in bitter fires,
Nor feed on fear, nor old desires.
I drink from wells of hope and grace,
And wear the joy upon my face.

Some hearts may close, some voices fade,
But still, I'm not by hatred swayed.
For I have learned, and understood:
There lives in most a spark of good.

So here I walk, not bowed, but free—
The love I give returns to me.
And every step, with peace elated,
I walk through life, loved—not hated.

 Pretend You're Color Blind When You Look at My Race

Pretend you're color blind—just for a while,
Not to erase me, but to see past the file
That someone else wrote before knowing my name,
Before hearing my story or sharing my pain.

Don’t skip the shade of my skin, that’s not the plea,
But look at me deeper—look at the "me" in me.
Beyond the hue, the tone, the trace,
There’s heart and breath, there’s soul and grace.

Pretend you're color blind, not to ignore,
But to open your eyes to something more.
See how I laugh, how I dream, how I cry,
How I reach for the stars just as high.

The world has drawn borders that don’t need to be,
Taught us to fear what we first ought to see.
But if you could look with an honest view,
You'd find there's not much dividing us two.

I am not less. I am not strange.
My roots may be different, but that’s not a cage.
So meet me in truth, in a neutral space—
Pretend you're color blind when you look at my race.

Not to forget what makes me unique,
But to hear my voice before judging me weak.
To stand with respect, to see with your heart—
That’s where healing and justice start.