God’s Poem

By Richard Lynch

o o o o

Look at those people, making their way.
A billion chapels, nearly ev’ry day.
I never could stand obsessive regret;
No rules in the past, I think they forget.
All people do wrong, why must I forgive?
Must they waste their time? Why can’t they just live?
They ask me for love, and I never hear.
I’d rather just laugh, and let live their fear
I’d think that they know, after all this time,
I’m not watching them, these people aren’t mine!

Ev’ry faith for me, they give me a name.
It’s a horrid sight, a blight and a shame.
All of those people, for whom I don’t care.
For I love not one, not even a hair!
I’ve no love for them, why must they bother?
I wish they would stop calling me father.
I’ve tried to teach them, through famine and wars,
Destroying cities, diseases and sores.
But still they come back, and while they rejoice,
They say that they’re loved, it’s by their own choice!

It’s down from these clouds that I’m heard to say:
Stop praying to me! Just go your own way!
I burn down your homes, I murder mankind,
I kill your children, I alter your mind,
Give wealth to the rich, and take from the poor,
I allow evil to break down your door!
I make you all sick, I take all your life,
And still they come back! Through all of this strife!
Some call you holy, and loyal, and right,
Your pain is, to me, the grandest delight.

I ask you right now to just leave me be!
You’re all bitter fools, if you worship me.

o o o o