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Thursday
May 31, 2012
3:46am EDT


Content Rating Notice:  Recommended for Readers 18 Years and Older Only
  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Religious >> ID #1718731  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Visitor
To my friend that I met on my porch . . .
Rated:
18+
by
Avg Rating: (9)
Visitor

Early, coffee, on a Saturday,
ready to talk to the Witness today,
having read the watch tower page
surprisingly not about the hell
                                        we’re all so sure to pay.

For though I’ve earned an honest wage,
my work an old neglected cage,
beliefs' been like a swinging door,
fallen prey to a devil’s sage.

‘Cause we’ve been through this once before,
watching them wage the good and evil war.
Find a sheep to rally at Amway.
Come between the sailor and whore.

And thus comes the Witness on the fray,
up on my porch, so we can at least pray.
Bring Him up on my bright morning stage,
And nudge me from my cage,
                                        to the watch tower way.
© Copyright 2010 Dan Sturn (UN: dansturn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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