DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.

8/13/18

Some people enjoy reading more than writing,

Some people get excited when the fish is biting

Sometimes movies are bad, beyond comprehension

Some people attend church just for absolution

 

My church is peaceful, clouds float in the midair

And they are fake clouds, so the beauty doesn’t seem fair

And it was one of those mornings when I just didn’t know what to wear

And I rolled out of bed, without giving a care

And I walked down the street and the sunlight caused a glare

And it was so strong that my irises seemed crystal clear and bare

 

And I got to the parking lot where we used to play tag

And a dog walked by me, and his tail he did wag

And a car drove by me, a roofless, blue, Jag

And in a puddle, on the ground, I saw a rag

And it reminded me of my old jeans, the ones that on the ground sag

 

And I got in the lobby doors and made the sign of the cross

As I found a pew, I noticed the water, floating then lost

And my angled glare was a small cost

To give to the holy Ghost, the negative of the imaginary host

And I thought the tile that was the prettiest most

Maintained an old friend, an angel, a ghost

 

And I sung, and I prayed and listened as I let myself go free

And it was so hot the priest swatted away a bee

And after the Gospel I felt officially free

That someone was praying to my soul, to myself, to me

Up in heaven someone is my lead

And one day what I didn’t care about before was obviously now the key

DRAFT: This module has unpublished changes.