Jonathan's Poetry

Poetry flows from the fingers like ink from a pen. Bad poetry flows like ink from a pen in your pocket.

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Location: Chico, California, United States

I'm a teacher. I teach about God. I teach about math. I teach about English, and History, and Science. I teach stuff I don't even know. But it's okay. I have a little piece of paper that says I can be in a classroom with 30 students and play movies for them when their regular teacher is sick.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Question from God

So one day, as man walks with God. God asked man a question. "What is
it that you want?"

"What do I want?" asks man, "I want a wife and children. I want to be
loved and adored by them. I want to provide for their needs and fill
their every desire. I want them to grow up without fear because I
want to protect them, and never worry, because I want to be there for
them always. I want a perfect and peaceful life for the rest of my days.

"Interesting," says God. "So do I."

Then the man asks, "so we're he same, You and me?"

"No," replies God, " we are not the same."

"How are we different?" asks the man.

"The difference," God says, "is what we think that dream is worth."

The man was ashamed, because he knew that even though he didn't have
one, he would not be able to sacrifice his son as God did.

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