Behind the Pulpit
Beneath the heavens
Cold means are the death of the reverend
Coke fiends run through the church and buy the religion
Through the nose goes the bone marrow of the Son
Out of the nose comes His blood for the sins
And into a pool of money that blood rains, oh what a bath the reverend bathes in
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
