Someone should 
let a snake 
through eternal life. 
It would hiss 
at a god, right under his knife, 
whereas we 
would entreat to the steel - 
no complaint 
or restraint; 
we could paint our own deal 
in our favor, in blindness 
to whether we gain - 
whether what we're 
is pleasure 
or pain - 
we can mask, hide, and wrap 
in nine different ways; 
we can shove them in bibles 
or mute them with tape 
over lips 
in a silver 
as quiet as rain. 


But, when shown to the door 
of the heaven it deemed 
naught but tales, myth, and lore; 
naught but wishes and dreams, 
it would taint what it touched 
and blend in with the clouds - 
it would slither inside; 
lie in wait on the ground - 


not a human there was 
wouldn't timber and kneel, but a serpent 
like me 
would bite god on the heel. 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

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