Library ----- Table of Contents
Jesus, I need help.
But where do I find help?
In man? In woman? They are no help.
They’d better help me
If they were hanged from the gates of Babylon.
Then there shall less evil for me to hate.
Here, nobody knows evil from good.
How the mournful shall cheer,
When they see their babes dashed against the stone.
Jesus, I have been alone, alone, alone,
Ever since I was born.
The multitudes picked me as their goat.
But Jesus, my shepherd,
Is there a chance you’ll see me as your sheep?
Though I only weep,
And am no good for either works or faith,
May I be your sheep?
Let all the others be as goats for the hills.
I can’t be bothered.
Every day I pretend so I won’t be hated.
I’d love nothing more than to wring their necks,
So supple and so white.
Why, to… Jesus, I am unhinged.
Granted, all saints are to an extant, but this is savage.
The world may be made right if these Egyptians
Were to be robbed, seized, and pillaged.
Everything is backwards.
The rich dress like beggars,
While the poor dress as princes.