St Jude

St Jude, oh set me free. I’m no lost soul, I still believe.
These problems stem from people’s lack of faith in me,
Not vice versa. And I will push further until another saint is re-assigned.
The only crime I’ve committed is jading my eyes.
As a multiple of sighs erupt I realize I’m sounding pretentious.
This is not my intentions, nor means of my path to forgiveness,
Oh I cannot confess anymore.
As I fall to the floor, I notice the faces are pleased;
I am another sacrifice brought to my knees,
Their proof they can sniff out a sinner, like winners at a race.
It’s written, as a psalm, all over their faces.
My rosary snaps as it’s thrust from my neck,
A move I am sure more done for effect.
And the beads separate and hide.
I watch them slide into cracks and disappear into the black,
And imagine Satan greeting them with a hungry manner.

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