my words would not be washed off Pilate’s hands
to crucify them again on vain crosses
my words would not re-stress the stress of our leaders
they will undress the hypocrisy beneath your dress
leaving your lies in a state of unrest
my words are aimed at you
to unseat the sited holiness
of your wholesome lies
Originally published on PoemHunter on 2 January 2018.