When I wake up:
feeling transposed,
Why does god's rain.
Fall from my eyes,
Then from my nose.

The devil can bellow,
Then cackle the most.
While some of the time,
Wondering why god.
Choose me to make rhythm.

What past is the past,
The present is to.
It's no longer a crime,
To look upon God.
Left wanting,
The same every time.

You may think that it's odd,
What if our God is an atheist God.
I've often thought this true,
It doesn't matter if you believe 
In him.
What matters the most,
Is if he believes in you.

Poetry by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 55 times
Written on 2022-06-16 at 00:45

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