In this stuffy church
I’m roughly hurt
by bugging jerks
judging worth
until I’m dirt.
They drag this out
until I’m filled with doubt
I scream and shout
on a team of drought
I seethe and pout.

I’m the small child
running through the aisle
through their perception I’m wild
I traverse a sea of begrudging smiles
hating my unique style.
They say I’m defiled
and put me through trials
like staring with vile
or spewing their bile
until I’m exiled.

They say I don’t know God
but I see him every day
in art that is beautiful
so no matter what they say
I know I am dutiful.
If they could view my soul
they’d ignore what the losers told
and not abuse my home.

I don’t want to call them heathens
but it seems their grievance
isn’t rooted in my allegiance
or anything I believe in
yet they keep yelling treason
for ulterior reasons.

So I leave their cathedral
of sinister evil
I’m finished with people
and their oppressive steeples.
I project my situation
onto one of the most varied ideologies on the planet
I say they’re all the same
they all play games
of lies and shame
or are boring and lame.

I feel the venom
of resentment
so I won’t reach heaven
or contentment
just what dissent sent
through judgment relentless
I see Satan as a temptress
telling me to end this.