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Image for the poem church

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

crimsin
Written by crimsin (Unveiling)
Published
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PoetSpeak NewBeginnings LilDragonFly runaway-mindtrain AspergerPoet56 Honoria Lazy_Dead
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