I Can't Be Like Jesus

I have been writing poetry, fiction and short stories for many years and have completed a book of poems. I also enjoy comedy writing.

I tried, God knows I tried, but I just can’t be like him.

There is just too much hatred in my heart for wickedness, I grant no forgiveness of sin

If you smack me I simply cannot turn the other cheek

I will hit you so hard it will hurt for weeks

I don’t work in mysterious ways, my actions are plain and straight

The Lord forgives, I do not. I give murdererss, not vampires a stake.

I simply cannot love all. To me that means to love evil

Evil that glorifies a starving child and introduce a homeless mom to the needle.

Are Christians like Jesus? How about Roman Catholics?

Did Jesus touch any little child and gave him chocolate?

Who proclaim to be like Jesus, surely not me?

What is for Cesar’s give unto Cesar, so I gave him this sword to the heart and knee.

I just can’t be like Jesus, because racism makes me puke

I will not just walk around saying Jesus Saves while black people gets nuked

I will not preach a ceremony in the city while innocent lose their freedom and speech

Instead I will go by some chicken and bread and let the homeless have a feast

I am more of an action guy.

My father has no mansion in the sky

But I will give you a place to rest your weary head at nights

I will be that person who you talk to who answers back and wipe the tears you cry

I can’t walk on water, nor turn it into wine

But I will share a drink with you if you be so kind.

I just can’t be like Jesus. Well, not the guy with the pale skin and long hair.

Because I love women in every way, for them I have a natural care.

I will not allow anyone to drive nail in my hands to save a bunch of ungrateful people

If anyone dares try that they will be talking to my Desert Eagle.

Sorry Christ, I tried but this world is undeserving

So I have to be tougher, stronger to battle for the weak, the old and those forsaken to die.

Maybe next time, in a different time, different body and a different place

But right here on earth, I will be strapped with Mr. Smith, taser and mace.

© 2018 Clive Williams