Some people serve
little gods.
They keep them in
a shoe box with
other odds and ends.
They take them out when
they need something.
Their gods don't expect
much of them.
I can tell by the
way they treat people.
Cold and cruel.
Wars break out,
famine hits,
families disintegrate.
And there goes Betty,
reaching up in the
cupboard for her
dust covered god.
She asks it to
make everything okay.
She lights candles for it.
Sometimes she has a
little ceremony.
But her tiny god can't fix
her heart, it's brutal and lost.
It does like religiosity though.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 30th, 2023 16:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
Offline)
Comments4
anthropomorphism, I love it’s use here. That tiny dust covered momento she removes from the cupboard is given tactile strength and meaning when you attach the moving act of leaning toward religion. Nice. Alive and enduring
Thank you bro.
Deep thinking
Thanks.
Good write T.
Thanks.
powerful lines and images
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.