Poetry

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If true love really doesn’t parade,
then your march is one of hate.
Your tongue flapping sounds like clanging,
like some cymbal that someone’s banging.

Even if you are speaking the truth,
the absence of kindness doesn’t bear proof.
You make me ashamed of being a Christian.
I wonder if your sin’s in remission.

The noise you’re making’s quite a riot.
If you can’t be kind, then be quiet.
You must think you’re this life’s party,
yet even when quiet, you’re still haughty.

Paul spoke of love with growing up.
I wonder if you’ve drank God’s cup,
Because you act like such a child,
I wanna ask, “You’re on who’s side?”

© 3-23-09

An opposing version to "The Unassuming" found here.

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