For all it might sound mighty odd,
It’s nonetheless as true as true
That, when you go away from God,
It doesn’t matter what you do.

Although I strive to chance my arm
And founder, each and every day,
I don’t inflict the slightest harm
On those I meet along the way.

But, even if I rape and maim,
And scorn the weak and crush the poor,
I’ll only have myself to blame
If I don’t open God the door.

It’s easy, though, to make redress
By crying in the wilderness.

Photo by Tom Barrett on Unsplash

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