God Is Depressed (a poem)

Updated: Aug 15, 2019

I looked up at the sky so black that I confirmed God was a chainsmoker.

Not a daily one. Just when He’s stressed.

His lightning lighter in His back pocket ready to warm the tip of His fingers at the cold reality of the mess He’s created.

Smoke protrude from His nostrils and mouth and He curses and blesses the sufferers of His second hand addiction.

I can’t breathe God

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