Wash My Hands

Forrest

In the beginning

Whether it was my birth or death

God has me under his thumb

So I fall to my knees

And raise my palms to the sky

To relieve some pressure

But God is larger than I am

So as I lay my hands

Around his throat

And suddenly God becomes

No more than a child

Begging for release

I begin to squeeze harder

  • Author: fb (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 12th, 2024 18:58
  • Comment from author about the poem: It's not that I have a problem with God, it's with myself and how he lives in me
  • Category: Religion
  • Views: 2
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