God didn’t say...A Poem by Maxwell Ryder
The solution isn’t eating babies.
Nor is it Trump’s Big Macs; The solution is in the stolen tax; the tithing Uncle Sam demands. God didn’t say, Let there be walls, but F**k your ailing backs? If He sent a dude named Jesus, He sent him as a tax collector, To be tarred and feathered. Instead, they strung him up! The only record of him Is the Shroud of Turin, When he was body-bagged, sent back to his godfather, Black, blue, and lashed. © 2019 Maxwell Ryder |
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Added on October 6, 2019 Last Updated on October 6, 2019 Author
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