Lion's Den Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

No matter who wins,
An updated re-invention...
Of the lion's den.
There will still remain,
Pretentious Christians.
Imitating a kept righteousness.
With their noses turned up.
And thumbs turned down.
To anyone claiming,
Hypocritical it is to make decisions.
About a much needed,
Complete change that moves away...
From events championed in the past.
When that past has been,
Historically re-written to accept.
And worshipped to believe.

Yet that past to continue,
To market and sell...
Is much too entertaining to observe.
And addicting to witness,
Innocent people picked to feed the need...
Of barbarians driving their SUVs.
Purposely to crush those who proclaim...
They have discovered other ways,
To fill up seats.
In a crumbling decaying colosseum.
Pleading on knees,
For time given to be heard and listen.

-Off I say.
Off with their designer clothes! -

Few...
Are left and reluctant to volunteer,
Themselves as martyrs sacrificing their lives.
To be left,
Stripped and seen butt naked.
Embarrassed and harassed.
As a ritual to prove their loyalty,
To deceivers, backstabbers.
And corrupted thieves!

"Your 'Giftedness'? "

-Yes-.

"Your throne has become challenged."

-I am beginning,
To sense the smell of reality.-

"Oh!
Forgive me.
I did not realize,
Just how close...
This movement affected you."

-And it stinks to think,
I am the creator of it all.-

"Do you wish me to call,
Whoever is left to assist you? "

-No.
It is my mess.
I will do my best to clean it myself.-

"But...
All over the throne it is! "

-I know.
Even I could not admit,
I could be such a stinker.-

"Well...
No disrespect,
Your 'Giftedness'.
You have been full of yourself,
From the very beginning.
And perhaps the time has come,
To smell up close just what you've done."