Thin Plastic Apron
So, you died for my sins.
I never really understood that one.
It's really a heavy thing to lay on a soul, don't you think.
How am I ever to climb out of my ditch.
Your standard is much too high.
The sacrifice to great.
I need the bar to be lowered or I don't stand a chance.
I can't even skip a meal without becoming hateful.
Your mother was pure.
mine died a broken harlot in a thin plastic apron.
you died for my sins-how am I to digest that.
Where am I to go from here!
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2019
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