baby jesus cried
in a cradle on a swing
on a cross he died
salvation he will bring
heaven is up there, waiting
combing thru all our sins
we are all down here, fading
thinking complex things
a dog looked up at clouds,
not wondering what's ahead
doesn't think about heaven,
he doesn't know he's dead
little boy pets him, smiling,
saying about his death,
dogs are perfect souls
they don't think about right and wrong
it's okay that he died
he didn't need to live as long.
mirror swung seven times
broke into three
when you close your eyes
what is it you see,
framework in the making,
baby born in a cave,
several thousand dead, thinking
all those souls you could have saved.
Author notes
a lot of thoughts.
i don't like religion class. but i've been thinking lately. about mirrors, dogs, gods, baahh
i don't like rhyming. but it happened. sorry if it's not your thing.
oh, say what you mean
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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this is kind of terrifying.
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why?
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i think its the way it rhymes so fluidly (which is fabulous) because it makes me think of those gashlycrumb tinies... which is weird cos they don't rhyme.
and i can really see everything. (also a great thing) so... my imagination is going wild. and when i read the last verse, which is amazing, i felt the mirror cutting my skin and such... i dunno. it's weird.
but i like it more now that i've read it again too!
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i want to sing this. perhaps with a worsh board and a jug as accompaniment.
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Ah, now, rhyming isn't so bad, is it? Sometimes it helps the feeling of the poem along
I enjoyed this; lots of thoughts here. Well said.
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that last stanza is fantastic. it flows like a deep, deep river.
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