Everything I write has to be even and perfect

I seek priests in the churches

To re-read me their sermon

Write my story on a constant i need reasons to word it

I need peace and a purpose

I keep thinking of verses

But I can’t think of one so I leave weeping and hurting

So please be more observant

I breathe deep and I’m nervous

‘Cause even I can go to hell with the thieves, greeds and the serpent

They lead me to the furnace

Believe me it ain’t worth it

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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