Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2014
Throwing her religion down my throat
fuels my anxiety
the ''I am saved and better than you and your going to hell'' starts so much OCD
Her eyes are truly serious; dead, and prideful
a piece of a cardboard,
box of a person who sold her soul to fear.

Though when I read the New Test
and see the broken mesh of people.
That man who walked with sinners like me
and slept alone on concrete floors
when none cared he was God,
and looked into eyes of the lost with such love
I know he never called us from above

to sit and judge,
others.

Words are a mere cover that hides a decaying heart.
Rl
Written by
Rl  21/F/London
(21/F/London)   
804
   ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems