Saint She Is Not

She thinks she’s a Saint for Being Perfect,
I think she is Hell,
She has the devil within,
Inside and Out,
Hail to the Saint,
That looks to imperfection,
In a Good Way,
That in itself should tell you why I say,
Perfect is the Devil, She Should Have Thought,
A Saint Does Not Look Within and Then Out and Then to Others In a Bad Way.
Come what may in a Forced Way, your eyes see and your mind thinks of privileged ways.
What is good has several meanings as well as bad, not to get one but all.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2020

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