The congregation sat in silence as the
puppet master did his thing.
How long must i tolerate your wicked
ways, .theirs more stink in here then
faith.Your loud, obnoxious and confused.
You got the right heart but the wrong
ritual.You wont religion then buy my
book.You wont a meracle then fill
my plate.O HALLELUJAH this painted
prophet yells, now some one get me
my milk.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem