Poem

When words become meaningless...
When words become daggers...

Twisted and gnarled but so prettily woven
on the outside

I see you, but my ears tire
Maybe if I turn my head and walk away
I can pretend you didn't happen

You've worn me down with the miles of your spinning
You've taken advantage of my good nature

Cleanse me, oh but I don't want to deal with you
Convince you, love you, you wear me down

We read the same words, yet, your translation is garbled
I hear love, you hear damnation

He loves me, my Lord Jesus Christ, He loves me
Why can't you, oh Anglican South