What is this three versed ****, we call a love letter. Father, son, Holy Spirit. I can't not write about the stuff that saved my life. Catholics give me headaches. Religious people, taste worse than prethrown up caugh drops. Stand, kneel, stand, kneel. Your rosery beads didn't save you, and that crucifix around your neck...you don't even know what He did. You snorted & said it looked good with my fly new outfit. You only talk to me at night, when the world & the girls have subsided.