It started out as a paper
In the dead of night
God proudly demanded,
“Let there be light!”
Ink dripped from the pen,
He used to create
A world that he dreamed of
Would be free of hate
As evil was revealed
In his brand, new world
He began to cry, great drops of rain
From which the sky he hurled
They blurred the ink
Of the structured essay he had written
And made it a poem nonetheless
The poem was fittin'
Then people could interpret as they pleased
Yet still see the main message
There isn't a clear cut answer
There is only good guessage
Author's Note: I wrote this poem as a way of describing how Christianty has branched out and changed over time. Sometimes, there doesn't seem to be a clear-cut answer to what God wants us to do and we must “read between the blurred lines.” I hope you enjoyed this outlook and please r+r!
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