Beth-le-hem the house
Of bread it feeds us from
Afar, it pours its sustenance
Upon us, our open mouths
Full and feeding search it still
Despite its crumbling walls, its
Empty spaces, and we have
Lost our skill in eating, in
Being fed - we are led by
Wrong things, we are blinded
And thirsting - its bread and
Water are our hours here
Its spirit singing yet
We are too dumb and
Beast-like to feed
And hear.
Holy City
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