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St. Clotilde's* Children

St Clotilde's* Children

Heaven cracked wide open, and the angels fell to Earth
To harvest the souls of the dying
The sky was red and foreboding, the masked air was… unusually heavy
The people of Earth were afraid of everything
God was subdued as he perused a magazine
full of celebrity scandals… and ignored the pleas
of sinners who never gave him a thought on most Sundays
He decided he would get to answering their prayers
when he was damn good and ready
After all, he is God, the all-powerful one, the all-seeing one
He knows the kind-hearted and downcast… and will lead them to their reward
He also knows the wicked, the liars and haters, who cause pain
People had better get used to suffering… because He is not interested
In the petty problems of a lazy, selfish bunch of idiots
who only ask for help after they screw things up
They don't learn from their mistakes, they just do… whatever…
without regards to the Earth or for their fellow man,
until they're in so deep they have no other option but to pray
Because it can't hurt, right?


*St. Clotilde is the patron saint of disappointing children
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
the pandemic, the politics, the hate... It's wearing me down
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4/10/2021 10:54:52 PM # 1.0.0.559