PoetrySatire

Spare the Rod

Hearken to the lord!
Spare not the rod
When you anger rises above the sun
Lest you spoil your son.

Bind him
With the thousand hymns
Make him a laborer in the vineyard
Threaten him with the graveyard.

Warn him of the failures ahead
Make him kneel for daily bread
Your saliva his fountain
Your pocket his mountain.

Do not teach him proverbs in the Bible
So he won’t be wise
A wayward disciple
Seeing through your lies.

Create a nightmare in his dreams
He can’t be redeemed
Write on the streets of Bethlehem
He has been condemned

Nail him to Calvary
His wealth for the ministry
Brainwash, till he is enslaved
His all in the church safe.

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