Holy Poetry for the Common Man

(Caution. Not necessarily for children or pernickety adults)

It cannot be denied, I am a piece o’ shit ‘Tis my confession; can’t deny it. We are sinners in the hands of a holy God, Traipsing all over His beautiful sod. I am I among this nasty congregation Unable to achieve a feasible segregation. Sin’s hold has a good grip on me And only One can set me free. That One who came down from the Maker, Was the real thing not a gnostic faker, The  partner with the Spirit in creation. That Son from death did not run But faced it; took it all in. (’twas no fun). He kicked the Devil’s ass real good Bringin’ life to the whole neighborhood.

Post-noon on 29 July 2022