little boy praying

he didn't get the message.

on your knees
like a w***e
or maybe
a man about to die,
you are whispering
syllables and
rhythms
that probably mean something
to whoever you choose,
whoever you love,
but let me tell you
something--

THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS LOVE
THERE ARE NO HONEST SMILES
THERE HAS NEVER BEEN A HALLOWED SAVIOR
AND NO PRAYER
WILL EVER FALL UPON LISTENING EARS.

listen, little boy:
divine rhythms
will only bring you
holy rejection.

Author's Note

Another angry religion poem.

Reviews

[Kenneth The Poet]

Nice. I really like this.