By the Color of My Sin

Hearts only grow harder and flesh is never thin, Some are much explicit while others hold it in, Dare i let it lay on the surface of my skin, Lest i be judged by the color of my sin. A man of tobacco's smoke is a man oppressed in vice, He cares nothing of his temple in whom his spirit lies, Yet another man can feast on blatantly baneful foods, Not a word would be spoken of the poison he consumes. A man who sips his liquor by the highlight of the moon, Is a man so poor in judgment and is quickening his doom, Yet a man who drinks caffeine at every rising sun, Won't acknowledge his dependence nor vent to anyone. A man who curses freely and is expletive in tongue, Is a man of lower class and respected by none, But a godly man may speak of those ethnically apart, With disdain and deprecation yet remain in the dark. A junkie on the street so vile and feeble, Has sold his self control for a vial and a needle, Yet we're fine with pharmaceuticals if bottled and labeled, If medically insured and legally enabled. A man who shouts in anger gives the darkness full control, Moreover, he's devoid of all peace in his soul, Another man can harbor hate secretly at heart, And can hide among the righteous and not be set apart. He who commits adultery sins against his body, His lust of the flesh deemed forever ungodly, But what of modern cinema? Images and art? He who looks at her with lust is an adulterer at heart. There are those who openly give tribute to the world, Those who sip, smoke, and swear, and collect diamonds and pearls, Nothing here is new the surface is the same, We are all of one, We are all to blame But what of those whose faults are hidden deeper than within, Those who go unnoticed are safe behind their skin, Those whose eyes are haughty, Those who choke with pride, Those who do the kinds of things much easier to hide, As slander their own brother and gossip among men, As disrespect their mother and bare false witness to a friend, Whose gods are of their belly, Whose gods are of their bank, Who measure their own worth by class and social rank, Those who display holiness like trophies on their shelves, And those who judge self-righteously as if Gods themselves, Hearts only grow harder and flesh is never thin, Some are much explicit while others hold it in, Dare i let it lay on the surface of my skin, Lest i be judged by the color of my sin. www.psalmsandpsychoses.com