A twisted poem about something my dad use to say when I questioned him about God's role. |
-Just Because- by Keaton Foster Finger Hand What a man Pointing Judging Ridiculousness As always To the enth degree Looking at the sky Daring to cry Asking as to why There is no answer None that we can accept Just because Is not enough We are angry Damn near certifiable We wanna know But not at the risk Of truly understanding Mystical mysticism Has its hands around our throats Slowly chocking us to death Oddly Auspiciously Reluctantly Pick which moniker applies Some do indeed thrive Such a lack of oxygen Only further inflates The egotistical ways In which they manage to relate God above cares quite less He has no opinion Only absolute damnation Retribution spread Across all human existence Just because Fits quite well A suitable answer As vague as they come So many must accept it But there are those few Who categorically refuse Those Us We will pay every impossible price We will suffer during our lives We will scream after our deaths No one will hear us in any way A deaf ear is the best That we could ever hope Just because One hell of a concept Founded deep within The reality of the situation That we now find ourselves in Will any of this ever change Will we ever get a suitable chance Should be our rebuttal But for such an argument We seem not to have the stomach… Just Because Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |