But closing hospitals?
How can you plate anything in gold,
While your people are out in the cold
Hungry and dirty
Pleading for pity?
As spectators ignore them
And go to their sanctuary
And step onto their holy pedestal
In a building that makes you feel like you're in the clouds.
Something they refuse to say aloud
Is that not all are allowed
So they stick to their crowd
And are proud of their faith
But they cannot face
The place that is plagued with poverty, violence, racism, and the like.
In spite of following one creator
The people have made it into a separator
Garnish your house of God
As the world is spinning out of control on the outside.
No comments:
Post a Comment