There once was a girl who never cried
In spite of how she tried
To live like a normal without pride
Even on the day that her grandfather died
But everyday she lived a lie
Because on the inside she wept
When I die
Do I want to be right?
Or do I want
In my heart
To risk forever?
That a god could forgive
My obstinance,
My doubt,
And bring me in
Where I would face
The smiling faces
Of those who wish
Their god was slightly more vengeful
After all.
After all
I know those faces.
As a girl I met the holy.
I remember the devout.
Damming me,
Pitying me,
Wishing to save me.
Do I want to be with them
Forever?
Or be stuck worse off?
Justified in my logic
That at least the devil
Is as evil as he was supposed to be.
And I unwilling to accept
A god that is not.
But suppose I’m right
And destined for dust.
My only prayer
Is that the earth cannot ponder
On right and forever.
That is the compensation
I ask for having lived.
The Proud Dandelion 