Last updated on August 18, 2020
We all are
Sinners
One way or another,
Then, why?
Point finger
Chanting
Foul grace,
I’m my own being
Crumbling
Learning
From the mistakes pronounced,
The glares
The taunts
The mistreatment
You hound,
I might
Erased
A smile
Pounded fists
Into someone
Multiple times
Might be handcuffed
Served jail time,
But, you are no
One to shout,
You as sinner
As I count.
Moulded
Me into one,
Now
I’m sinner of
Sinners
Wearing the crown.
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