God Didn't Show Up

I called for God inside a cheap motel,
The wallpaper peeled like forgotten prayers;
Neon cross blinked red, then none, then hell,
A rhythm that matched all my little despairs
The Bible in the drawer had lost its spine,
Like faith that bends too often just to cope;
I traced the lines but couldn’t read a sign,
Each verse a tired salesman peddling hope,
No thunder came; no whisper split the air,
Just pipes that groaned like drunks without a cause;
If God exists, He doesn’t seem to care,
Or maybe care was never one of His laws.
So I lit up, exhaled into the night,
If He won’t come, I’ll learn to live the spite.