by Chris Burton
Love churches, leave churches, ain’t perfect.
Need nurses. Don’t want hurses. No more curses.
Flaring up. Who care enough to tear it up?
Socialism and vocalism. Let’s share, enough!
You selfish. Don’t even know what wealth is!
Not til you don’t have it. U know what health is?!
Step kids feeling like they orphans.
Parentbuyerremorse daydreaming of abortions.
It’s sickening! I look to sky. Who listening?!
Same robe as Job (thunder rolls) I’m envisioning
Tickling leviathans commanding the shore to bend.
Fake smiles abound it seems they all pretend.
I don’t want it no more I’m looking forward to the end.
Peaceful. Gentle. Only question is when.
Trumpets and then I’ll be out of sight
Or surrounded by my love ones too tired to fight.
Is it right to have excess and claim you are blessed
When excess got you stressed home life is a mess?
Internal bleeding needing me to sit back.
With no kick back the end approaching I’m yelling get back.
This ain’t a sitcom my body is Vietnam.
Hard to stay calm when your body won’t stay warm.
The glory is at the end of the story.
So even through the trial,
I know that God is for me.