My Very Own Mother Teresa

 An ideal is like a speck of dust.

It doesn’t mean a thing

unless a reaction occurs.

And once something happens,

your life is no longer your own.

That is if you believe that we have free will.

A pipe dream

and their penchant to kill.

I must be hopped up on allergy medicine

because I’ve been snorting up sins

as the devil’s advocate for years 

and the best I’ve gotten is a disappointing itch.

I must have my very own Mother Teresa;

that forgiving bitch.

Just inject me with criticism,

and make the reason for my emotional ditch.