“We are oft to blame,
It is too much proved” -Shakespeare
with the visage of a saint,
we do sugar o’er the truth.
Spare me from the hollow
the hollowness of sound
of the fleeting praises
coming from their mouths
And you speak with such small regard
to the things I thought I should do.
And I know I have a sinner’s heart,
but you said I’ve got a home in you.
Oh to see the sins
through the bands of time
swallowed like a pill
and poisoning the wine
People of God where have you been?
Person of God where have I been?
Why are we not playing our parts?