Sad Poems : Alcoholic Poet: Children of Atheists Sad Poetry.

Alcoholic Poet. Poetry Equals Distance Over Time.

Distance Over Time
Monday 12/17/2007 01:38:00 AM

I saw the gods plotting us. Tiny colored trapezoids on a giant game board. Risk. The dice our decisions. The continents our whims. They were bitter because we'd outgrown the worship. They were bored because we weren't that interesting anymore. Just fucking. Making more of ourselves. And paying too much for gas because seven seats are not enough. Even when there's only one of us.

I saw the devil watching. Smart enough not to interfere. He can finally relax. Evil doesn't need him anymore. He loves us, just as much as god does. They both want our souls. Just for different reasons.

I wish they were real. Then I'd have an excuse. For everything. I could turn off the light and pretend that I can't see what I know is there.

I'd worship the devil if I thought he was real. He seems pretty cool. I'd praise Jesus if he'd actually been the son of a god that doesn't exist. I'd love to have heaven to fall back on. I'd love to have a god to blame for all my shortcomings.

But it he were real, I don't think he'd like that.

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