The good Lord is a dull stone in my shoe
I'm too lazy to shake him loose
He jolts my conscience, as I take issue.
He makes me limp; sore are my sinews...
He reminds us; that jettisoned,
Ammo's don't care where they fall
They're propelled, bastioned-
In the belief; man's many shortfalls
Like gravity, make a heel dog?
And, I guess a loyal friend.
Course this is only, a prologue!
To his righteous, journeys end.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That annoying stone that also bothers the conscience. Good write, Mark