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Poem to God
Faith
 Is hard to put your finger on
 And harder still to hold onto.
 
 See, 
 Despite my Christian upbringing,
 I decided some time ago
 That I did not
 Could not
 Believe.
 
 Little sense it makes, I think,
 To form something so carefully
 So tenderly
 So “lovingly”
 Knowing its purpose
 Knowing its fate
 Creating it for
 Ruin.
 
 Is it fair to be selective, I mean,
 Let’s look at this objectively—
 I can’t bear to think
 Free will was made when
 Nothing can be
 Known.
 
 God! You
 Said it yourself, you
 Claim your ways are 
 Beyond our understanding, so
 Why would you leave your children—
 Projects—standing
 All alone
 
 If a man is good
 And fair
 And kind
 And always pays his rent on time
 And always lends a friend a 
 Helping hand
 But folds his hands for Allah
 Would you send him to the
 Burning pits
 Eternity of
 Pain?
 
 Surely not! I tell myself but
 Then I think again.
 I’ve seen it written
 I’ve heard it said
 The only claim to
 Salvation:  “in
 Jesus’ name…”
 And that’s the key
 And that’s the answer
 Ding ding, we have a 
 Winner.
 
 And that should give me
 Hope.
 That should give me
 Peace.
 That means Suzie with the
 Five kids and the
 Night job and the
 Tough breaks won’t be
 Damned. We are not
 Perfect.
 
 And thank God for that.
 
 If you were keeping tally, 
 We would all go straight to Hell—
 There’s too much sin!
 As for me, I’m 
 Inclined to think that
 Someone got a little
 Trigger happy,
 Label-marking 
 Everything as
 Sin.
 
 And
 This creates a problem.
 Your word says, “Do not judge”
 But that’s a bit ironic, no?
 “Hate the sinner,
 Love the sin”—oh,
 That’s not how it
 Goes.
 
 Religion is the
 Perfect blend:
 Hypocrisy,
 Rebuke.
 
 So
 Where does one draw the line?
 Which of these sins is “acceptable,” like
 “Stick it in the back, no one will
 Notice.”
 And for what sin should we 
 Raise our pitchforks
 —the ones that say
 “God hates you”—
 And deny them human rights?
 
 This is coming off a bit more, hmm,
 Confrontational than I intended--
 Like I said, God, I’m just 
 Trying to be
 Objective.
 
 But…
 
 It’s not objective, is it?
 It’s not about the 
 Logic or the
 Reason or the
 Sense. It makes no
 Sense.
 
 But today a security guard put
 Teardrops in my eyes for his
 Sheer kindness.
 And as he walked away, I said,
 “God bless him,” like I meant it
 Like I thought that you were
 There.
 
 I said it
 On an impulse
 I’m uncertain of 
 My doubt.
 
 And I can’t help but think
 I can’t help but wonder
 If a gentle man with
 Simple words could
 Make me change my
 Mind, if
 It’s the little things—
 The unbidden emotions—
 That truly rule us all.
 
 Now,
 Who am I talking to?

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