Church Poem by William Williams

The building's fictitious,
As are the halls,
But it's so hard to tell,
When stained glass covers the walls.

But people outside,
They feel worthless and weak,
But the church doors are closed,
While the congregation meets,

Their intentions may be pure,
But I find it kind of odd,
What kind of church uses doors
To try and contain GOD?

Is it simply a mistake?
Or do they truly not see,
GOD needs to be shared,
With those who don't believe,

Not kept to the faithful,
The ones who are saved.
He came for the sinners,
That's why he went to the grave.