Fake

November 5, 2008
By
One
She laughs, long and hard.
The sound dances into nearby eardrums,
Her laughter is sunshine to the large crowd surrounding her, all smiling.
Leaving the group she sighs,
Once inside her red BMW she cries.
Through tears she murmurs,
"Will this pretending never die?"

Two
He preaches, loud and passionate.
His voice rings with power and complete understanding.
The parishioners sit, silent, soaking in his words,
Never questioning.
Turning from the pew he aches,
How can he speak what his heart can't take?
Pondering doubts he sighs,
"I want to believe for my own sake."

Three
He shoots, fast and straight.
His face is solemn when the bullet hits.
Buddies surround, welcoming him to the Gang,
Unwelcoming expressions painted on their faces.
Following his group he blames,
He dies inside of guilty shame.
Quietly he whispers,
"I will never be the same."

A forced laugh hides pain beneath,
While sermons are taught with unbelief.
A young boy kills to be protected,
All his life having been neglected.
I see myself in their fake behaviors,
All looking for their inner Saviors.
Someday, perhaps, all of us will see,
Exactly who we ought to be.





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