**read author's notes disclaimer first**
when we were younger
years and minutes passed
at the same rate
questions and curiousities
ticked off our innocence
rather than minutes
[for we are not of this world]
we were too much alike at five and seven
the world met us full speed
but we had only righteous anger
no swearing, violence, or therapy
anger and pain were sacrifices
still breathing, for the beloved ministry
[not counting men's sins against them]
you spun away with bitterness
and i tucked my resentment in
years later we still don't have much wisdom
the church comes first but my eyes
are on dreams of politics
not consumed by one man, one deity
[do not be surprised if the world hates you]
and we weren't
still it stings
[a little]
Author notes
disclaimer- this is not a religion bash or a political piece. it is a resentment of mixing the two, it does not reflect my own spiritual beliefs..
originally penned for fizzypop, but due to internet connections i am no longer in the contest, i'm still interested in knowing what everyone thinks...
metaphor taken from spartan traditions, the ages of five-seven were a time for young children to be trained as warriors, religion in the greek society was a strong force, as was war.. they have been indicative of my life-
quotes from John:15 and 18; 2 Corinthians 5; 1 John: 3
Comments
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Ahhhh, I know this story...you've put a nice spin
on it with this poem. A very thought provoking
piece, my friend. I thoroughly enjoyed it, although,
personally - I think it's good just the way it is.
Love, Lane
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