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Tell Me Why
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Soapbox Oh, this bloody mist,
Look, that viscous mess used to be a man,
How much hate does it take to come to this,
To blow oneself up by one’s own hand?
Do they really believe their God would want it so,
To take their own lives is how far they will go.
Our God is one of love,
He treasured us enough to send his son from above.
To die for us here on a cross,
So our souls could be saved and not lost.
Instead of fighting us, would it not be better to teach?
Instead of killing each other, would it not be better to preach?
The more we learn of each other’s faith and culture,
The less we become dinner for the vultures.
Tell me why you think your God is different the mine,
Maybe you can convince me over time,
But to hide your lights under a bushel basket,
Makes no sense, just more caskets.
If your God is the light of the world,
Spread his word, let his flag be unfurled.
One cannot be a believer, if they have not been told,
But yet you would kill them. That is pretty cold.
It isn’t really fair, if we don’t know,
You don’t tell us or inform us so,
Why should we believe in you,
If you won’t tell us of his word too?
This poem probably won’t change a thing,
But, Infidel, Muslim, Christian, Jew, Hindu, what ever,
That pile of goo, used to be a human being
And we all are diminished that they are no longer here.
