I can't imagine going back in time
to live life as I did when I was young;
when failing to comply was called a crime
and blind obedience's praises sung.
Yet, some folk seem to need a guiding hand—
a father figure, showing them the way;
what's right or wrong, they cannot understand,
unless inscribed divinely onto clay.
Is forming one's own judgements mortal sin?
Don't brains exist so we can work it out?
A child needs their behaviours pencilled in;
an adult's one who's learned to deal with doubt.
Some Biblical advice for one who clings:
"When I grew up, I gave up childish things."
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Author Notes
There is a much thrown-about argument in apologetics that basically says if one doesn't believe in an almighty being who dictates what is right and wrong, it's impossible to have a moral compass. Another way this belief is presented is that the non-believer is like a rudderless ship, thrashing about in stormy seas, with no sense of direction.
This is a nonsensical argument, and my little poem is a response to that claim.
Thanks for reading.
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