Rotten Apples

 All the scrubbing in the world.

Cannot make you shine like gold.

And all the perfume that you spray.

Cannot compare to the grave where HE lay.

You think your words are so refine.

But that won't make you sit and dine.

For there is a table prepared for those.

Who believe that Jesus rose.

You fill your mind with deceit and lust.

And think that you are blessed and just.

Far from God is where you be.

And His children, all can see.

You smell like rotten apples wide.

And in your heart you think God is your guide.

But what you do not know my friend.

Is hell is waiting at the

end.

If you seek to close your ears.

You will cry a million tears.

For when the trumpet blows one day.

In hell you will go.

Because you failed to obey.