Check Yourself

Man, you can't even write a cogent simile,
vain, got your talents from Mephistopheles,
I'll flex this vocab like Samson mixed with Keats,
a poetic Heracles,
word scores so large it'll make you weak in the knees,
you're worried about gettin' that golden fleece full of fleas,
ignoring your duties to the Prince of Peace,
that golden piece that dangles 'round your junk,
now that's disrespect,
but what should I expect,
sometimes I don't think you've got something above the neck,
you've failed to check yourself,
and now you're wrecked,
a total mess,
but hey,
at least you look good,
and they admire the way you dress,
but sonny jim you can only impress the Divine with what's inside your chest,
are you following His will, or listening to Him less.