I live in this world where

Things are doing okay,

Things are moving along quietly but

Surely

And maybe it's not perfect but it's

Home

And then you tell me that

In your world, things are different

People aren’t the same there,

They look like my people

But they’re sort of twisted

And small

And you can’t tell unless

You look really hard.



I don’t understand,

I can’t quite

Comprehend

How they can be so

Twisted

And small

How they can live in those

Big shadow houses where

The light only shines through

The windows that aren’t covered

And through the

Cracks in their judgment -

Only they board those up

With putty and nails

And hope it stays tight for

Future generations



They aren’t like my

People

They sometimes eat blood

On their pancakes

And they only give when they

Can get

And they have pointy teeth when

It comes to their share in

The big pot

And pouches in their cheeks

For storing large amounts

To secure retirement plans



You tell me they’re all sick

With a fever

That one day soon

They’ll die out

Only what doesn’t kill you

Makes you stronger

And right now I’m under the table,

Calling 911, but

The building is burning

And your people

Are marching in

And there’s less of them than

Before

But they hold His fiery sword

That one He used to

Keep them out of Eden

You knew Him?

Well

He’s dead now,

And so am I.