GodA Poem by AcromantulaJust a poem. Not to be taken seriously.Should I be happy? Proud? Rather, how many people should I murder? I need to find a junkyard near me. And get a baseball bat. There's no God on the streets... No God in the hospitals, no God in the cemeteries. No God on the roads and no God in the clubs. No God in your home, no God in your schools, no God in your church, no God in the slums. No God on your tongue, no God in your head, no God in your hands, no God in your books, no God in the sky. No God in the dark, no God in the day, no God in your followers, no God in your leaders, no God in your people. God runs down, red as blood, through the streets, at night. God is in your fear, your disease, a heathen. God is in the Hell Hound he's made, just for you. God's tongue is forked and blackened, his skin is grey and his eyes don't see. God is that one kid down the street with a gun in his pocket. God is the woman that seduces without mercy to leave her prey out to die. God is the dog that snarls, hackles raised racing into the darkness. God is the ashes that rise from burning houses. God is that extra minute it took the ambulance to get to a dying man. God is the hands that bind away power. God is afraid. God is the hunger beasts feel rumbling deep in their belly. God is the thing the keeps you awake at night with shrieks. God is what is missing on the battlefield. God is everywhere. But he does not work in mysterious ways. © 2015 AcromantulaReviews
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