Airbrushed

Airbrushed and suited up beyond repair
Too white washed for the naked eye
With perfect posture you sit on a man made throne
and look up to a man made man
to learn a man made view
of a man made world

Faith without action
Action without love

I walk in with what seems as rags to you
and you stick your nose up
I am not that depth-less and closed
to shove out the world because they do not walk in my clothes

I would rather join in the desert march of those who seek a real land
Then dwell in an oasis of plastic people who will die where they stand

There is so much more to seek
That is real
That is God
But it is suppressed by a sea of men who are too outwardly pious and inwardly dim
to believe that this faith can be anything more than dead-weight, stinking and boring religion