Pharisee
Pharisee, pharisee, you come again
My night of hope screams for crumbs to eat,
I’m just a boy needing a few coins
Offering old tin cup to rich men on the lane.
Cold my body wrapped like soiled paper, trash
Echoing my plea for mercy or grace
Yet, I’m bypassed like a rag, a nameless tag.
While you laugh at my dingy fate, mocking
A young life’s poverty… I bellow of angst
Instead of helping me learn in school,
Your trace of arrogance maims my bones,
Do you know how hard it is to sleep in the rain?
Pharisee, pharisee… one day, you just might
Take my place, and hear not the echo
Of kindness reverberating from heaven's call.
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2025
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