THE GOOD BOOK

I sat next to an old man in our village

He told me as story about a book

A book that is a blessing and curse to whoever uses it

A book with words that enslaves and frees

The book that makes a person feel powerful and also unworthy

The book with a law that deems you guilty at birth

The book with terms and conditions that are applied for a rebirth

The hypocrites quote what favours them

Others use it to shame people and to condemn

Power hungry people use it to control, subtle

Naïve people use it to continue living in their own bubble

It is meant to save us in times of trouble

But every chapter always feels like a complicated puzzle

Living up to what the book says is a constant struggle

It’s a book with a lot of secrets, yet they call it transparent

Those with the answers rule the world, they see us peasants

They are good with words, they always restructured the book

They turned it into an addictive drug, take a good look

They always get away with hurting us because the book says “do not retaliate”

They keep us poor because our ‘riches’ are not tangible until death

But for some reason theirs are here on earth

People starve their families to feed the authors

They were made to believe that they don’t have to work for anything

It blinded many

It is used as a weapon

It is misunderstood by the people who explain it

The more he spoke the louder the question in my head got,

“Why is it called the good book?”