A poem

This is a poem written while at boarding school.

While Attending Church (Involuntarily)

The candles representing
the lives born twice
are burning unevenly.

This church building is
filled with blue light
and tears.
I sense justification.
And the cliché artificiality
we love to bitch about.

There are hands outstretched here,
arms crossed there.
But there are a lot of
mixed emotions everywhere.

There is a common thread here,
“I am incapable of change alone.”
“In Christ alone.”
The religiosity is strangely
ignorantly
disgustingly
appealing.

Who is this god to whom they pray?
Who is this Jesus to whom they give
their fears away?
What is this building that is filled
vacant
with pain misplaced.