Riddled With Defects Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

If all cults weren't divisions,
Of existing religious beliefs...
Why are just a few,
Considered illegitimate?
When every one of them,
Is a creation of someone's imagination...
Sold to sell with a telling that is bought.
And a fighting done amongst themselves,
That has nothing to do with the presence of God...
Claimed to be in their lives.
As contradictions and hypocrisy thrives.

Do we exist as images of GOD?
Or...
Have we been created to immulate the image?
Either way,
The process seems to be riddled with defects.