What do you want me to do?
How can I live here when he lives here too?
He used me, abused me, concocted his warped version
Of his deceit, lies, control and coercion.
He’s rallied his troops of the rich and influential
Who’ll cover his tracks, oblivious, deferential
He’ll be back in that pulpit, preaching, preying,
Watching to see who might next obey him
I can’t go to church, a place I once loved,
Because he will be there, aloof and above
All morals, all common sense, all honest parishioners
Who just want to trust as they sit there and listen
To the Word of The Lord spoken by a hypocrite
Stop talking, start walking, start actually doing it.
How can I go on? When I know what he did?
But I am expected to roll over, forget and forgive?