Idle Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Suicidal.
Idle.
And self-obsorbed.
Vain.
And obsessed.
Living for no other interests.
No interest but self,
Kept addressed.

Temperatures rise.
And from the skies,
Ledges are reach.
Pushed to the edge are those,
Finding a lack of peace.
Never in their minds,
Found to know it or to keep.

Leaving Bible thumpers stumped.
Feeling like 'pinballs',
Being bumped and in mental slumps.
Even scriptures learned to quote and explain,
Will not remain in minds closed.
No matter what 'The Word' to others expose.

'It's better to be up in Heaven,
Than to live this life of Hell.'
Say those who have made their own Hell to live.
A Hell they have created to make.
A now seek a better way.

And they believe if they should leap,
With and ending of their lives.
God will come to realize,
Their self-centered acts are 'not' suicidal.
Or idle.
Vain.
But...
Sacrificial.
Sacrifices made to show independence.
An independence that will impress God.
And relieve this DEITY to please.

Leaving God to perform more important duties.
Than the taking away burdens too heavy to bear,
Away from those believing themselves chosen...
To live their lives,
Without God in them to depend.

Suicidal.
Idle.
And self-obsorbed.
Vain.
And obsessed.
Living for no other interests.
No interest but self,
Kept addressed.