Going To Church
I did not put on my suit, and not even a tie
by Randy McClave
As I go to church to worship and praise,
Although I am seen as an outcast, a pariah
But, still wouldn't GOD want to see me in these days.
Inside the church, I know that the people will stare
I am the prodigal son who is returning home;
Though I never left my father, so they can gossip and glare
As my life and my belief I had to ponder upon and roam.
I hear the whispers and I see the fingers point
As I walk back into the church a house of worship;
The parishioners wear their fine Sunday clothing, so I must disappoint
They will always give a donation, but never a tip.
I am divorced, and I have known many women
And I have friends, both men and women who are gay;
Does that make me an evil or a bad man; do I sin
I believe as long as they are happy, is all that I would say.
They will call him a bastard, and they will call her a whore
They say spouses should share the same colored skin;
They will ridicule the beggars and also the poor
Are they the self-righteous, the ones able to point out others sin.
When Church is over I see the gathering church members
Then when the church doors close I feel a very cold zephyr;
The teachings for today they must not remember
They are not talking about scriptures, they are talking about him and her.
If my son was gay I still would always love him
For his beliefs or orientations I don't want him to suffer and die;
If he married someone of a different race, him I would never ignore
GOD, says one thing, but many will preach and tell their own lie,
GOD is my father, and I too have a son
And I wish no pain or suffering to ever befall upon him;
So why would GOD our father, his own children would he shun
A father is a father, don't we love our children, everyone.
Randy L. McClave