But Woe Unto You Who Are Rich
The words of the prophet speak forth plain enough—
Their meaning we all understand.
Submitting to God is the part that is tough—
We’re stubborn and flout His command.
We add house to house and we join field to field
Until we’re alone in the land.
Injustice and bloodshed—the wild grapes we yield—
Bring judgment: Our wall will not stand.
Our churches are filled now with smug, greedy people
Who sin in the face of God’s grace.
A cross rises up from the top of each steeple.
The symbol we might well replace:
We’re called out to challenge our base human race,
But taking a businesslike view,
We’d have steeple needles with ample eye space
For souls of the rich to pass through.
William Walters © 2014