God is a kindly old man,
His beard is long, white and flowing
And I'm trying the best that I can
To find Him and really start growing,
But it would be a bit of a laugh,
And I'm sure I'd be taken aback,
If the God of my mystical path
Was an attractive young female - and black!
It's just a thought - how can we know for sure?
Tim
we can know for sure that all pots are made of clay how you descibe it is in what you say when a pot is broken does it's inner space fly away?
Hahahaha, good poem! I have also wonder that myself. You have good flowing rhyme. Oh... by the way, are you really born in 1964? Just asking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poem with non-typical taste.