Confession
Everything has a beginning,
an origin creation story,
the universe, rivers, trees you and I.
We're only a breath
in the grand scheme of things,
and who on earth really knows
where we go from here
when the worms inherit our flesh.
It's a horrible feeling to imagine,
a lake of fire could be where
you're bound to,
for the moronic way you lived,
to be with all the other morons
from the very first moron
of the human race,
there moaning, gnashing their teeth.
Imagine when you crossover
a winged creature
shining like a star will be there
to greet you to hand you
a one way ticket to hell,
and every vile and evil being
ever existed since the origin of man
imagine you might be rubbing
elbows with them.
Maybe you're not a moron,
though you lived at times like one,
for the most part
you been a goody two-shoes,
and for that you think
you deserve to enter through
those big-ass pearly gates
when you leave this world,
where man from the cross
will be there standing,
smiling all hippie-like,
to show you your mansion
he promised for being one of his sheep.
Why won't it be a tipi,
or a shack like the shack you grew-up in,
who's to know if the mansion
isn't just an adobe hut?
Maybe we'll just end-up little lights.
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| Manny Moreno |
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