I Do Not Fit In


 I am part of the house, but I do not fit in.

Though I am washed in the Blood and forgiven of my sin.

You look at me with scorn and smile with your cheek..

But underneath the makeup, your humility is weak.


I give of my best, to bless those in need..

For the pouring of compassion, is the sowing of a seed.

While the wheat bow in worship, the tare is a thorn..

And the house of prayer, is overcome with scorn.


You beautify the outside, in hope to attract...

The peasants and the strangers, to come in and attack.

While the Spirit of the Lord, stands sight unseen..

You go about your business, to flash on a screen.


You shoot with your arrows, to pierce those who rise..

And neglect to look deep, to uncover your disguise.

The chameleon's dance, as a puppet on a string...

Would not beckon the seal, from the Lord's own ring.



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