Saints and Sinners
I’m done with these prosperity preachers
that the TV keeps airing as teachers.
They wonder why it’s rare that They reach us,
when I see poor saints sleeping underneath bleachers.
When we’re going through earthquakes ,
not one door frame between us.
People searching for faith…
Looking for someone to relate,
They’re a sweet lick.
When They see y’all, They see cake.
I scream…
They knot rake and ice skate.
They want to take 10 percent of my plate.
When 30 of it, already goes to the state.
But I need to pay,
to secure a great and higher placed fate.
Never made sense to give 10 percent of my worth,
to fund a person in church.
When in the end, we all end up in a hearse.
They aren’t a doctor, they aren’t a nurse.
How can I trust them, with what I know of this world?
Rather give it straight to the man with no coins in his purse
