Close to home

Dear god,

Church, late afternoon
another day
when light knocked at your door
but you were asleep, or out,
no doubt!
the bible you gave me
I squeezed to a smudge
praying on knackered knees 
my throat ached singing your name
chasing your tail
round every note's bend
a desperate man, nearing the very end

So I wasn't expecting to find you
not stuck in the muck and the slime
close to home, in a wet corner
where the sun don't shine
but there you were in forgotten bins
plastic at your sides, tins for eyes
and each day prior I'd just walked on by
thrown on more waste in anger fits
heaped misery to mountain high
burned any bridges to bits