God, I’ve got a nose to pick with you.
Are you listening to my angry prayer?
A few fucks in front of the altar?
It’s not like you’ve never heard me swear.
My reverent heresy is born from
The institution blindly followed.
To commit their violence in your name
Fed on half-truths, easily swallowed.
Shared with Tanka Tuesday – oxymoron but mine is just a nine-syllable quatrain. I got my challenges mixed up.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:

Great poem, Shaun!
Yvette M Calleiro :-)http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
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Thanks Yvette 🙏
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Reverent Heresy- Ooooo I do like the way that rolls off the tongue.
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Haha! Thank you 🙏
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I like your choices of oxymoron Shaun, used to great effect.
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Cheers Paul 🙏
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Very welcome Shaun ❤️
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One of the reasons I stopped going to congregational meetings. Well done.
Who listens? If we did get answers would we recognize them as such?
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