Sunday, July 12, 2009

The Smoke of Religion

Religion rules this sorry little town.
The people wear masks, like clowns.
The trees long for the the spirit of Father.
The animals want to be stirred, all a bother.
The strict harshness of no expression, death.
Please God, breathe life with each breath.
For our spirits are choking in the smoke of religion.

No comments:

Post a Comment