Bless Me Father

Confession was an obsession

in the earliest times of the twenty-first

century in all the developed nations

on a sphere somewhere between

Venus and Mars.

I took up the habit out of shear despair.

Fear for this sphere.

All it's air, all it's oceans,

see the pretty animals die by the herd,

unheard of cruel treatment of entire populations

of peaceful people all over the globe

by goons and gangs,

people that hang on to vice

for their very life's blood,

dealing in weapons and schemes,

bullets, vices, and human weakness.

Pinning the cost of a happy existence

to the proper insurance,

balancing the act of how they distract,

and are to be examined and reasonably distrusted.

They are disgusting me, I must confess,

remember Khe Sanh,

remember Kay's son,

a battle seventy- seven days long,

however you never remember is up to you-all,

so called, what, God fearing?