Them

What I love most about poetry is that a poet has the license to write poems about subjects that are not necessarily the reflection of him. Case in point is the following poem. I was inspired after reading the atheist author Christopher Hitchens book “god is not great”
They live in a spiritual universe
Where life is controlled from birth until death.
God and religion are somewhat perverse
Their morrows all dawn without any mirth.
The clergy worship tithing's surrendered
Fleeced from the faithful flock each Sunday.
Sermons of dread are read to each member
Spreading the fear of forthcoming doomsday.
The young and elderly kneel on their knees
While a pretentious priest preaches his lies.
The fold mumbles prayers on rosary beads
In hopes of salvation when death arrives.
Poor souls! Lived their lives by the golden rule
To find out too late they'd all been such fools.