Poetry

Religion

Religion

Who’s right, who’s wrong.
No one knows, but they
think they do. As do I
think that I am right.
There are many, there
are different kinds.
There are many that
are one in the same.
Some branched off, some are
made up, some are traditional.
Many have fought over
whose is right. Some
people don’t have one.
I also am a victim
in this war over who’s
right and wrong.
I am a good person in some’s
eyes, I am a bad person
in some’s eyes; they think
this just because
of what I believe.
What will be of those
who are wrong and right
We will only know
when we die.


Originally published in Palabras Spring & Fall 2006

Cardell Jefferson

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