We Dead on Delivery

George Karos

Forgive us God of All,

We seeming trapped in a church pew

Becoming obedient to humble expressions

Suited for somber states,

Of miserable multitudes

Growing wise in grandeur of commercial hate,

Commanding our harnessed past

To mingle with tried lives of serf and slave,

We wounded hearted by liberty’s lies,

We hell-bent inside our master’s guise,

We drunken, would-be saints seduced by clergy’s chalice,

Forgive us God of All,

We seeming trapped in a church pew.

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