“P.C. Disease”

Poem by Renee Moore

Photos by Ben Bird

 

Let’s take a moment to collect

Our thoughts as we reflect

And inspect the situation we’re about to dissect

You see, there’s this growing concept

The world wants to inject

In our mind-sets and dialect

To infect our intellect

And if you haven’t yet guessed

At this mess I detest

Then I’ll do my best to address

What it is that I object to

Everyone has heard of cause and effect

But still we reject and refuse to accept

That the truth is what we need to respect and protect

Instead, we keep our opinions silent in order to deflect

Hatred, criticism, or direct neglect we’ll intercept

By speaking of God and morality in retrospect

Or present or future, for surely we all detect

The threat we face for lack of being “Politically Correct”

So I’m a Christian on a mission

To share my suspicion

See, you don’t need to be a mathematician

To envision my prediction

It’s all over the television

This politically correct religion

It’s become an addiction

Through apathy and indecision

We’re faced with spiritual malnutrition

Yet we renew our worldly subscription

Instead of seeking a prescription

Through Jesus Christ’s crucifixion

And now morality is in remission

Leaving the nation in intermission

With a paralytic condition

But there is a holy rendition

Through our God-given intuition

And the Holy Spirit’s conviction

We can make the right decision

And to God’s children be an addition

So know that I choose to believe with glee

In Christ’s victory

Over Satan and death, God is my reprieve

With no fear of repercussion

About this discussion

I will speak my testimony

Never mind “P.C.” bologna

Lies the world will weave

And conceive ways to deceive

 With countless tricks up the sleeve

Claiming Jesus we must bereave

To instead bequeath grief and defeat

Ready to breed desperation and depravity

Eating at our souls like an insatiable cavity

So now I entreat

Though weary you may be

Fulfill your destiny

As a child of Thee

It’s no longer an unseen mystery

Or a page of ancient history

You must let God supersede your greed

And the pride you relish selfishly

The lies you embellish jealously

Prepare to receive your remedy

The maker of your chemistry

Cleave and leave

The burdens that you heave

At the precious feet of He

Who will love you eternally.

 

 

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