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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Other >> ID #1540756 |
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As I entered my new church for the first time
the greeter shook my hand and asked for a dime. I really hate to bother you he told me, but every cent is needed for a TV. I was welcomed by the flock and placed in line to receive the pastors blessings and His wine. Only as my cup was raised did the man say that to truly be blessed I would have to pay. A small sum of money was all that was asked, but all small donations would surely be masked by the larger payments that were often found to be gifted by the most humble around. Don’t worry about how the money is spend, it is more important how the gift was meant. I was sure that money would go to the poor, imagine my shock when I saw the new floor. It was covered in gemstones precious and rare, which no one could walk on, we only could stare at the gaudy gem mosaic that showed us the churches sweet lamb mascot who was named Gus. This is a "The Hendecasyllabic"
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