Sunday Morning Man

Sunday mornings,you laid in bed
waiting for me to bring you breakfast.
You laid on the couch and called me stupid
instead of helping with the kids
You drove angrily, recklessly,
risking our safety on the way to church.
You told me it was my fault
you "had" to act like that.

Sunday mornings, you picked up your Bible
and walked through the church doors.
You smiled and put your arm around me,
you put on a convincing act.
You glowed when they called you
a model father and husband.
You whispered ugly things to me
when I dared stand up to you.

Sunday mornings, you lived a lie,
pretending to be a godly man.
Then church ended and we went home.
The act stopped then.
Your anger came back.
The lies, insults and violence.
Filthy actions.

Sunday mornings, you are alone.
I am not there to fix your breakfast.
You have no one to insult.
When you go to church,
people know why you come alone.
I am gone.
And you are left living your lie.

Sunday morning man,
you can't live like the devil
and expect an angel to stay.