Ego Froth
Holy men anguishing over holy words.
Predicting the return with arithmetic.
Swinging revelations like a medieval sword.
Recalculating when the day passes like a billion others.
They disappear for a while, thinking we'll forget about their false prophecies.
I haven't forgotten.
I remember their red, hot-bloated faces pointing pointy fingers at me.
Somewhere in their ego's froth, they've forgotten the passage from Mathew
24:36.
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.
