Whitney Houston is dead

I came in this morning riling at God for the way her life ended

I feel like she asked for his help and he should have helped her

Ask and you shall receive that is the deal

For in our struggles we find faith

And maybe she did succeed

Maybe the 19 years with her child was her portion

And the loss of her voice was her piece

And that ridicule is the price of fame

In the end she found peace I so fervently wish

When life is brutal, rude and offensive

We are only as strong as our weakest moments

And the person next to me is living their own personal struggle

And in the end we make our choices

That death is a part of life, I know this

Are prayers then just whispers in the wind?

Arewa Girl