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- Banbury, UK
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His Lie.
Theres something he has not told you,
He made the world after a second week,
But yet he lied to everyone except a few,
That "few" included me, because i've realised the future is bleak.
What he told has not surprised me,
But will probably shock many,
It is extrordinary,
That so many people have believed a phony.
On the eigth,
He created jelousey,
Man envied the faith,
That was spent on someone with controversy.
On day nine,
He created races,
Beings would be given a fine,
Of unhappiness for the colour of their faces.
Number ten soon came upon,
He created war,
Men fight for terrortories sometimes just for fun,
Yet the women and children became ever more poor.
Eleven,
He created corruption,
The rich brought their place in heaven,
Whilst the poor were given no affection.
Twelth day arose,
He created disease,
We would suffer an early close,
Without any ease.
Thirteenth day, unlucky to some,
He tied everything up with pain and suffer,
Hits us like a drum,
But yet thats all he had to offer.
Finally the fourteenth day,
He took another day of rest,
Happy with the work he's done he waits for pay,
And starts to think of his next quest.
Religion is his lie,
Athiests are his enemy,
But no matter how hard he may try,
He wont convert me.
Theres something he has not told you,
He made the world after a second week,
But yet he lied to everyone except a few,
That "few" included me, because i've realised the future is bleak.
What he told has not surprised me,
But will probably shock many,
It is extrordinary,
That so many people have believed a phony.
On the eigth,
He created jelousey,
Man envied the faith,
That was spent on someone with controversy.
On day nine,
He created races,
Beings would be given a fine,
Of unhappiness for the colour of their faces.
Number ten soon came upon,
He created war,
Men fight for terrortories sometimes just for fun,
Yet the women and children became ever more poor.
Eleven,
He created corruption,
The rich brought their place in heaven,
Whilst the poor were given no affection.
Twelth day arose,
He created disease,
We would suffer an early close,
Without any ease.
Thirteenth day, unlucky to some,
He tied everything up with pain and suffer,
Hits us like a drum,
But yet thats all he had to offer.
Finally the fourteenth day,
He took another day of rest,
Happy with the work he's done he waits for pay,
And starts to think of his next quest.
Religion is his lie,
Athiests are his enemy,
But no matter how hard he may try,
He wont convert me.