Maybe all the anger was meant for myself (YEAAH ANOTHER POEM)

Oh my God!

I look at God dead in the eye

My feet planted on the ground,

I've grown tired of his lies,

I come to claim what I know's mine.

The priest told me to pray

Until my kneecaps worn out,

Until the tuffet kept my stay,

Until the bible left no doubt

That god would answer

The day I gave him war.

So today I stand before him,

If tight fists my hands,

The priest's sermon no longer fair 

All I could do was only snap.

I blew my first hit, 

With all the anger coiled inside,

And as God met my gaze,

I was met with my own eyes.