Sin

Everything I write has to be even and perfect

I seek priests in the churches

To re-read me their sermon

Write my story on a constant i need reasons to word it

I need peace and a purpose

I keep thinking of verses

But I can’t think of one so I leave weeping and hurting

So please be more observant

I breathe deep and I’m nervous

‘Cause even I can go to hell with the thieves, greeds and the serpent

They lead me to the furnace

Believe me it ain’t worth it

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741