This is a black country,
Many souls are black with the soil;
Their soles march the dust
But their hearts are even dustier.
There is struggling for everything;
In the church the pastor
Encourages the congregation
To give to the Lord cheerfully;
They eat the fat of the people
And the lean is reserved for the
Workers in the pews;
They say that to him who has
More is given
But from him who has not
Even the little he does is
Taken away -
By the pastors I suppose?
samuel nze
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-pastors/
