The Prostitute
He stands, observing what he's done
To paper. Lightly the sun
Shines off the drying canvas. One
Window let's it in and frees*
The fumes of paint. A breeze
Blows in and now he sees
The smears of blood and sweat and tears;
The summation of his loves and fears,
The fridge of...
...another denomination.? Please tell specifically why you left, and what denomination (if any) you joined. I would also like to know where you live. Thanks for sharing.