this scrap of paper
found in a tattered notebook
poems for misfits
in a world of mad ravens
frayed social weave
where the orphan needs courage
lost in hiraeth
for Eden isn’t of this world …
benedictions flow
from the rich and the potent
who rummage deeply
in their sterile souls seeking
how to keep – not give
except for a few marbles
in a Christmas-time stocking
generosity
found in a five and dime …
hypocrites in church
on a hot Sunday morning
hearing the words
spoken by a homeless man
nod your heads then say – Amen!
© G.s.k. 15
Powerful choka! This is one you wrote before?
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Yes, on my other blog, I made all the posts not stores private so I decided to transfer them here. I wrote in April 2015.
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Thanks for sharing!
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Welcome 🙂 glad you liked the choka, though it’s a sad reality.
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Hypocrites indeed. (sigh….)
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These are the ones that makes the blood boil, the hypocrites.
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… and why I no longer attend ….
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Ah … good reason, really good reason.
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