The Sacreligious, Blasphimist, Heart of a Salvation Seeking Sinner

Pardon me Pastor, if I don't wish to meet your flock of strangers. Normally they wouldn't meet with a person as strange as me. Forgive me Father, but I'm not here to help you spoon feed the children of Africa. I can barely feed my own children, let alone myself. Sorry all Ye Saints, but I can't help you rebuild Haiti. While the Temple of my own soul crumbles, and the foundation that is my faith caves in. I don't give a damn to hear about your good deeds. As if you were praying in public like the Pharisees. And I'm not here to save or change the world. When I can't seem to change to save myself. So here's my half 'a dollar your Holiness, it's not compassion, or my heart, but it's more than I have to give. This is my Revelation Reverend. I need to hear the word of God. And if I can't walk into Heaven with my head held high, because of the differances I didn't make in so many lives. Then I guess I'll just have to crawl.