Image for the poem church


mockingbirds in my soul
sang halleluja not really meaning it
as the pastor drone on early Sunday morning
in the stuffy room I couldn't find God
praise felt false on my tongue
and I wasn't going to fake it
I was at home in nature  
that's where I met our creator
people will let you down  
they will lie to you
nature is true to self
the birds get up every morning and sing
you can count on them
in nature I find real love
there my soul can soar
in my heart there is true praise
for the glory of his handiwork

Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 14 reading list entries 7
comments 29 reads 141
PoetSpeak NewBeginnings LilDragonFly runaway-mindtrain AspergerPoet56 Honoria Lazy_Dead
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
Today 10:52am by dustyJournals
Today 10:45am by Blackwolf
Today 10:36am by dustyJournals
Today 10:28am by Blackwolf
Today 10:23am by Valeriyabeyond
Today 10:19am by summultima