In Her Room

She kept a painting of Christ, and the Pope,
on the wall opposite her bed.
Things had been hard,
the answers were always wrong.

How brave Christ was to die for us all,
but how did it help her now?
She was not yet dead, though, she could
feel the rot take hold.

Every now and then the Pope would
be in the news, the footage of him
would often be of him in St. Peter's
square delivering a homily or blessing.

How strange it must be to be the Pope,
she thought. No one else would be able
to understand the loneliness of divine power.
How often did the Pope hear God' voice?

What if that voice stopped speaking?
She prayed for him daily.
She always wondered if God, the angels,
and saints could hear her.