Holier Than Thou

Forgiveness is something needed,

For oneself, when we know we have hurt another,

Some people think they're perfect,

And that they only hurt others when they intend to.

 

Truth is, we hurt each other every day,

In one way or another, reason being,

No one IS perfect, just born blind about being human,

And having flaws, making mistakes,

And being the same, but different.

 

Men hate their differences 

And glorify their religions

Instead of glorifying the gods.

We have built ourselves up to be

Something great in our minds,

But so small in reality, 

That we can no longer even see,

We are nothing we claim to be.

 

Too much talk and no action,

Allowing money in the hand to mean satisfaction,

We all have blood on our hands,

Our prints on the gallows,

We've all murdered you know,

As we chant 'Hail Marys' 

And His name be 'Hallowed',

As long as innocent men,

Are murdered on death row, 

Better talk to yourself about forgiveness,

Cause anyone could be next ....you know?

 

Preachers and teachers,

All the blessed ones,

Get in line on Sundays,

And then go home to clean their guns,

Running their mouths,

About things that they read,

Never finding out for sure,

If it's even true, indeed,

The way to compassion 

Is through examples, not your mouth,

And a good place to start might be 

To start with yourself.

 

You may want to tell me

This is one big croc of s*it,

And that's ok, because it works for me,

And that's why I wrote it.

 

 

 

8:43 PM 7/2/2013 ©

SSmoothie's picture

So much truth and

So much truth and understanding here! I enjoyed your views and even concurred mostly! :) hugss 


Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."

nightlight1220's picture

So glad you did, SSmoothie.

So glad you did, SSmoothie. Means a lot. Funny, I didn't think anyone would when I wrote it. 

 

Thanks for reading and thanks so much for your comment.

......


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "