Poetry

Bright light shine in, not much is going on,
I open an old door that behind me thud
when I am sure that all people are gone,
my eyes catch a single red rose bud
beneath my knees the floor is cold as stone,
I chew my prayers again like cows do cud.
Bright light shine in,
 
while my life feels dirty as the black mud
and in that church I am the only one,
feeling in the great world totally alone
while my own sins pierces like a sharp stud,
bright lights shine in.