Religious

I’m becoming more religious 
My god is a man of wit
And his people aren’t fastidious
In the prayers they commit
Everybody understands 
Well aware that the trials
Cannot make a better man
From a rancor we acquire 
Being tested all the time
With no promise of reward 
Being told about the crimes
Of the past we must pay for
I’ve no time for moral babies
I am living for myself 
And for my most precious lady
Who once told me I’m her elf
With my god we laugh aloud
Breaking loose from any cell
I have grown from tiny sprout
To dismiss the man made hell.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2025

Poem

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

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace