By Misti Lake
Date: 3 April 2001
a harlot's hymn
with every head bowed
and every eye closed
I stand before Jesus
in my Sunday clothes
every door barred
every window shut
nowhere for me to go
but up
could Heaven contain
my manic soul
I feel like an angel
out on parole
I tried good
as long as I could
but unlike this pew
I'm not made
of wood
I am, in fact, made of bone & flesh
and it can't be disguised
even in
my Sunday best
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