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God has his wrath
And I have mine
It's an angry force
That takes my divine

Turns a whirling dervish
Writing with my pen
Drives me to the land
Of how I hate their sin

You treat them royally
You crown them as your King
Your serve them your sweet self
And then all they can bring

Is madness to your soul
Fire to your brain
Coldness to your heart
As they leave the insane

In lessons you try to teach
Won't comply with your rules
Even leave their work at home
God, they are a herd of fools

You set commandments for them
They forget to follow
You treat them with your best
Then they are so hollow

Coming to you as they want
Not paying attention to your needs
Satisfying for awhile
Until they think their deeds

Done and over with for now
Forgetting you even exist
Don't text, call, write and email you
No wonder I am fully pyssed!

Will write those commandments
In some other space and time
Or man will be the devil himself
God has his wrath, and I have mine.

12/12/2006 0800 cj

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