Sitting in the Pew

Here I sit,
Listening intently,
Hoping to find an swers,
To questions asked for generations.

Sweat down my face in summer,
Goosebumps on my arms in winter,
Nothing will stop me from coming here,
Every Sunday of every week.

My breakfast settling,
Down deep in my stomach,
My intestines produce gases,
I can no longer contain.

Although I've been loyal,
My god has forsaken me,
For at the moment of my release,
The room has gone silent.

Surrounded by children,
Unable to contain their laughter,
At the greatest amusement,
They have had in an hour.

I know that regardless,
Of the length of my existence,
I will always remember,
The time I farted in church.

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