THE CHURCH CYNIC – a poem

THE CHURCH CYNIC

I post this poem without permission, except from his teacher Paula B. who I am delighted to say is my daughter-in-law.

This perceptive poem is not to shabby from a high school senior, but then he had a terrific teacher.  She gave him an A – me too.

Brendan S.

Honors English 12

16 March 2016

The Church Cynic

What is wrong with people?
I thought while sitting under the steeple.
Countless faults in others I see all around,
Yet, despite the strong temptation to correct, I refrain from making sound.
The pastor walks in as arrogant as ever.
Is his joy ever real?  I’d say never.
His wife follows behind with the same kind of smile.
Has she done any good?  Not for a while.
Here come the deacons, each one a hypocrite.
If their problems continue, the Church will split.
There are the children, only good for noise.
Because of them, anyone attentive finds out all of their parents ploys.
After watching others I wondered, “Does the Church any more produce good?”
It was then that I contemplated where exactly I stood.
Every week I attended, as cynical as can be.
Realization finally showed that the real church problem was me.