Dear God, You Might Be Fake, but the Devil is Real

Thu, 02/01/2018 - 09:55 -- fiablue

 

I may have believed in God

But I always thought the devil was a farce

Sitting in the cramped closet of a church for Sunday School

The girl next to me sneezes and I don’t bless her

Challenging the demons to flood into her mouth

I got scolded for thinking that my power to bless,

would pale in comparison to sitting in a house of worship

Still, I goated the wicked spirits to come and do their worst but,

 

It wasn’t til’ many years of religious ambiguity

And unsubscribing to all faith

Later, did my eyes find evil

Yes I met the devil

And it was in all the people coming at each other

even though they all worship the same God

Unaware he just uses a different pseudonym for each of their holy texts

 

You know,

Jesus, Abraham, Moses all heard the word of God from the horse’s mouth

But when I look at a burning bush all I see is the destruction of life

They preach love thy neighbor as they shoot up a church

 

And before you all crucify me for blasphemy

Know that my problem is not with God, or Gods, or the theory that some entity

created the universe

Just because I don’t have faith doesn’t mean they don’t exist

But we’re all avoiding the truth

holding faith for the future in horoscopes

And footnotes from the Bible

We’re all just animals parading around in oil

No one is better for the sort of religious robes they choose to atone

We’re all the devils and

The real thing we should be worrying about is the reckoning,

 

You know,

the real reckoning, when the international pissing contest of whose warhead is bigger

Comes to a conclusion

Consider it the great flood but with it comes

People turning on people

Then we are doomed to be extinct

So when that time comes to pick up the knife

I don’t know whether I’ll point it at your chin

Or mine

 

So kiss your children goodnight and try to wake up tomorrow

With the fear them not being able to grow up

Then maybe insight some change

Say hi to your neighbor bill, open your mind, tolerate the bs

Stand up for someone with your mouth and your teeth

And not some 210 character tweet

and do something

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741