A Little Broken

Everyone is a little bit broken.
We all have some sort of past.
But in the shadow of the steeple,
We feel the need to put on a mask.

We lock up our guilt,
And put on sanctimonious shows.
Don't ever let anyone see,
Don't admit to the sin you chose.

We put on happy, smiling faces,
Forced to keep it all concealed.
Above all else, whatever you do, 
Don't confess to the temptation you feel.

Don't tell anyone about your desires to sin,
Don't tell let them help, don't let them know.
Keep it between yourself and God,
Deal with your addictions on your own.

As long as the church holds this belief, 
We will never be a hospital for the broken.
We'll be dressed up shams at a masquerade,
Never achieving the great commission.

Maybe if we weren't so ashamed,
And admitted to the help we need,
We could step into the healing he offers.
The lost lambs, we could begin to feed. 

Read the explanation of this poem here: "A Little Broken" Explained