I Never Walked On Water
I told them I was God,
And they believed me.
I never healed the sick,
I never fed the multitude,
I never descended from the heavens,
I never walked on water.
But I said I was God,
And everyone came.
The business men,
From their ivory towers,
The junkies,
From their filthy alleyways,
Came to me,
Crying,
Cheering,
Singing praises to me,
Professing their undying love,
And devotion.
I never performed a single miracle,
I didn’t need to,
These people,
These desperate,
Lonely,
Miserable,
Lost people,
Wanted a savoir so badly,
They picked the first guy,
Who applied for the job.
I now sit on the throne they’ve given me,
Wearing the crown they’ve made for me,
As they wait outside,
For my proclamations,
My sermons,
My miracles,
That will rid the world,
Of the misery,
Hatred,
Confusion,
And uncertainty,
That I promised to eradicate.
I am their God,
And I hear their prayers.
But who does God pray to?
