PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Right she said it is off to bed,

let"s get you up those stairs.

It"s half past eight and getting late

I want to hear your prayers.



Oh no I thought as I was brought

to the foot of my own bed.

What will I say, oh what to pray

so this is what I said.



Christ"s tears decreased my fears

and reduced my salt outtake.

To take my blame make me the same

deserves a firm handshake.



To die for me to let me see

my soul so stripped and bear.

Is beyond belief a true relief

that someone really cares.



Now as for God the poor old sod

he sacrificed his son.

To create, anoint, to make a point

for me and everyone.



But the Devil knows the seeds he sows

are all quite growing well,

that not all faith can reach day eighth

and makes an easier sell.



So here we are, we"ve come this far

in this our modern world.

You can be devout about your doubt

as your tongue becomes unfurled.



So I just say what price to pay

for mankind is surely bound.

To take onboard all knowledge stored

that those who"re lost are found.



I"m all for firsts but what I thirst

is something more mind numbing.

I want to say, he"s on his way

behold the second coming.



Mother sighs and says "oh my,

I think your faith is swaying."

So I bow my head at end of bed

and pretend that I"m still praying.



She left the room in state of gloom,

I thought well aint that odd

no homework done, oh my what fun.

There really is a God!