If you give a mouse a cookie or,
You choose to leave a cult-
Be careful cuz ‘You’re Crazy‘
‘You’ve fallen’ & ‘You’re cold’
…Or, maybe ‘You’re just lazy.’
You dare once ask a question,
Soon they’ll start asking you:
“Who do you think you are?”
Who me? Who are you talking to?
“What do you know compared to me?
I’ve fasted and I’ve prayed.
I’m leading this parade!
I’ve studied, never played
See, look, I know more than one thing,
I happen to know two:
1. Rats can look like mice and,
2. Cookies can be molded to a pew.”
“I’m out of here,” you say
“Too far away I’ve fallen,
I cannot, will not, measure up.
I’ll rise, I’ll stand, I’ll take back all my stuff!”
If you choose to leave a cult,
Pack up your dusty bags of worth:
1) Scratch out your name from all their headlines,
2) Give away your lavish clothes
(or, sell them to a theater if you need some extra cash.)
3) Make room in your iPhone, Samsung, or Android
they won’t be calling you no more.
4) Regress to your safe haven, a place you can call home
a place that will not cave in, a place that is your own.
God’s got you, the mice, the cookies, and a big, bright, shiny hope.
And last, chances are-
If you do decide to leave a cult,
5) Count the cost to know your worth.
And if you care for mice or cookies-
Or, don’t know why they’re in this poem,
Remember what, or Who, it is that matters-
The Cookie Maker, the Maker of the Baker, & your reward.
Alesya, thanks for reminding me to write poems. I literally forgot I can.