Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2017
We can't afford him
and that's a sin
Jesus used to be free
but
now he's on sale,

every street corner in Stratford
hosts a prophet
each with their own visions
of heaven and hell to sell,
and well,
Westfield's in the hell division
branded as a place
of gluttony and pride.

I've tried to appease them,
bent over backwards and
pushed hard to please them
but they're on the ball
waiting,
I wonder if they'll bother to
catch me on the day that I fall
or will they be too busy
handing out pamphlets
flooding these hamlets
with
litter.

But bitter I'm not
I've got time on my hands,
might wander off into
those biblical lands
to
commune with the divine,

it's a shame though,
I like Westfield.
John Edward Smallshaw
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw  68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)   
182
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems