By Morris Hafley
The term long-shorts seems a contradiction to me,
Kinda like having fried iced tea.
People wear them, they say, to keep cool,
But disobeying God makes one a fool.
Some tell me they’re more comfortable and they fit,
The problem is not while standing, but when you sit.
The words “decent” and “modest” don’t come to mind,
And to warn them, we are told, is so unkind.
People across the room see how high they go,
Shall we take a Polaroid and let you see the leg show?
Perhaps we should be more concerned about the Lord
Before we go around being conformed to the world.
Is it really the teenager’s fault when allowed by mom and dad,
As they walk around dressed like the world, that’s so sad.
When we allow this in youth we are setting a trend,
One that will continue generations without end.
How ’bout the husband who lets his wife do the same,
When this old world with sex has gone insane?
Do they not love their family and the Father above?
To tell his wife and children “No,” that’s tough love.
“We are losing the battle” it has been said,
But we won’t quit fighting till we are dead.
Let your family know you’re not ashamed to blush,
As toward judgment and eternity we rush.
May God help us to continue to speak out
Against anything that contributes to the drought
Of preaching kindly and boldly as we ought teach
As toward our heavenly home we earnestly reach.