I was hungry and you formed a humanities club to discuss my hunger
I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel to pray for my release
I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance
What good did it do?
I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health
But I needed you
I was homeless and you preached to me of the shelter of the love of God
I wish you’d taken me home
I was alone and you left me alone to pray for me
Why didn’t you stay?
You seem so holy, so close to God; but I’m still very hungry, lonely, cold, and still in pain
Do I matter to you?