domingo, 16 de junho de 2013

Our "Father", they lie about Heaven

I am not very religious
And there are many reasons for that
I cried and asked for help
But it feels like He doesn't care.

I went to church
The doors were closed.

How can the church's door be closed?

Isn't this His house?
Doesn't He want me in?
Am I such a plague
He treats me like a brat
An insignificant little rat

I drink
I cut
I binge
I purge

I can't help it when I feel the urge

"Where are you, God?"
I asked Him so many times
Isn't it odd
Have I committed so many crimes?

The fires of hell
Already burned all my face
I kept asking for help
But my bruises wouldn't fade.

Well, maybe He's fake


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