Impersonators
They walk through the grand doors,
their halos up high.
Their pedestal they stand on.
Their lives filled with lies.
Masks of angels and saints,
so heavenly and divine.
Who believes it? Who can see it?
They eat the bread, they drink the wine.
They walk down the aisle
and kneel down on their knees.
They are a menace to society,
an uncontrollable disease.
As the choir sings softly,
they look him innocently in the eye.
Making peace within themselves,
before they should die.
Their perceptions are low,
their intentions are clear.
They are people you should question,
people you should fear.
Disingenuous impersonators,
the games they will play.
They will receive their retribution,
come their judgement day.
Until then they will scheme,
live their lie and never show
the true side of themselves
they want no one to know.
They will deceive you, they will fool you,
they will become your good friend.
They will tell you what you want to hear,
then demean you til the end.
As they sit in the chapel
and your eyes catch their stare,
be aware of their devilish influence,
they act but they don't care.
They walk towards the doors.
They cleanse their souls before they exit.
They place their fingers in the water,
the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit.
Copyright © Suzanne Hopkins | Year Posted 2019
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