rites seem wrong
The rites seem wrong
It gets in the way
When I wish to pray
I know there is a belief in me
That has been warped
By what is proper
Tradition is taught
The need to believe in other than man
is born in me
Let it be free
Let my unspoken prayers
be sent to my Other
without intrusion or warp
I need no tinsel or dogma
I need the silence
of thought
And a space called me
To thank Thee
For life and a chance to be
A simple soul
Who believes Someone is watching
Over me.
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