The Madonna hears her son’s cries.
To live the way we choose.
To die the way we choose.
A privilege yes, but sadly not a right.
Preston is the real athlete.
The rest of us are bystanders if we’re lucky.
I don’t want to hear what part God’s supposedly playing.
I’m not sure what I believe and if pressed on the matter I may just acquiesce.
The struggle is definitely harder.
Even the aftermath fails in stature.
Serving a life sentence and all he did was forget to put his seatbelt back on.
The Madonna tends to her son’s wounded chakras.
Preston is the miracle.
There are no saints or sinners just survivors and evil do-gooders.
I’m not interested in any explanation Our Father may wish to proffer.
I’m starting to believe The Big Bang happened the second God’s back was turned.