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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 18, 2018

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Submitted: September 18, 2018




I've got ghosts in my past and blood on my hands.
I'm haunted by the words I never said.

I sit and I drink in an empty bar, crowded with broken vows. 
An empty drink rest in my hands.

My bartender becomes my priest, I meant to ask for another drink;
not forgiveness.

I spill half confessions from my lips, only a little slur when I ask:
"Does God love all his children?"

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,
although, I can't tell my sins apart from my fathers'. 

This faith is not my own; oh no, this faith doesn't belong to me.
It's been passed down, worn out, and used up.

My bartender becomes my priest;
My drink is full, and my confessions go unheard.

Yes, I'd rather be haunted than blessed, at least my ghosts talk back.
They whisper the words I never said.

© Copyright 2018 Cai Kuu. All rights reserved.

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