Oh, how cheesy it gets, when one talks about forgiveness
How boring it is when one talks about repentance
How yawning it makes me when one talks about mercy
How bizarre when someone still talks about the Deity
It put me to sleep when one talks like that
But my energy is risen as one talks about dirt
When her mouth is foul and full of hate
Oh how I love it! When someone talks with hypocrisy
Why?
Why are we like this?
Haven't you took a peek of the land you're standing on?
Empty of the words you're filling us
Foolish preacher! Look at the Earth and get yourself hurt
You make my eyes puffy, with your so called mercy that the flowers around me needed
You make my hatred boil as you don't know where your voices are headed!
Where are you going? What are you looking at? Where are you looking at?
That I can't feel what you expect me to heal
Your mere words can't tranquil my so called soul
As if I have that
Do you now know?
Have you heard from my voice?
Why your spiritual talks bores me?
Mercy? People have none.
Forgiveness? People have none.
Repentance? People have none.
Values? People have none.
Why do you say those words in a universe that uses fist
Why do you preach those in the world where it doesn't exist?
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One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
