He Left the Church in a Huff

This, a poem I wrote years ago and gave a major overworking today. It's probably a kind of bad idea to write something over the span of seven years... writing styles change, etc... but oh, well.

He Left in a Huff

A man left the church in a huff —
No one agreed, no one could see.
"I’ll never return, never look back,"
He vowed as he pounded his knee.

In search of more suitable folks
He drove the contiguous states.
All was the same – the terrible bad,
Most horrible, infamous traits.

He signed to go on a mission –
He didn’t know where else to go.
But again was found such notable bad,
His self proclaimed "No, no!"

His ideas were spent –
He must have tried all -
And yet, hadn’t found
A church without fall.

"I’ll just have to worship alone,"
He reasoned one Sunday at home.
"If no one is right, then it won’t help
To continually wander and roam."

He took up his Bible –
Where it fell to he read:
"You strain gnats from your tea…
But your mercy is dead."

His eyes stopped in their tracks,
"I’ve been swallowing yaks!"
Water true light refracts
In poor cisterns with cracks.

"I may not see clearly
What others think true,
But it could be I’m wrong -
I’ve not stood in their shoe.

"I’ll return to the church
I left in such wrath.
I’ll labor in love,
On a mutual path."

He packed his bags
And caught a plane.
He returned to his church
And there remained.