i am made of shadows
carved out of the back the room
black rushmore
coated in silences for color and cold
we are not presidents
old men in young boy bodies
finding fathers
in ourselves
feared things
lurking things
arms made of thought
the bells ring
and we come running
like dogs trained
to hear the unheard
crazy made
god is a teacher
with long brunette hair
almost taking attendance
almost opening her eyes wide enough
to see it all
she is something else
contrary to popular opinion
she does not have the whole world in her hands
does not love all her children
makes mistakes
and creates evil
i have loved her in silence
though she damns me
with no interest at all
in saving my soul
she plays favorites among the sheep
causes us to lay down in parched pastures
and still commands us to pray
lord wash me white as snow
