10 Dec 2016 – Sonnet

At last we shuck a faith we’ve always feigned,
an inconvenient truth that never fit,
a pro-sports jersey everyone disdains
because the quarterbacks spew non-stop shit.
Incessantly they damn the world to hell,
while raking in the gate receipts off sheep,
and calling guilt plays (old but still work well).
What profit is there, selling Heaven cheap?
Now most men mock, their eyes turn to avoid
the faces swearing “blessed are the meek!”
They’re sick to death of liars lives devoid
of Love which scream “there’s nothing here to seek!”
We think we know the one who owns this league.
The truth a great surprise – we’re all deceived!