There was a woman named Michon
A line in the sand she had drawn
Some thought she was Spirit-filled
But she was really just unskilled
The Spirit from her had withdrawn
A wolf in sheep's clothing
The righteous were loathing
She knew a Bible verse or two
But twisted them into view
The truth she was opposing
Michon, a complete disgrace
Sitting smug in her "safe" place
She delights to deceive
Leading forth the naive
Reprobate fallen from grace
Today you can see a Michonite
In offenses they will delight
With a self righteous word
With vision that is blurred
Cataracts take over their sight
From a Michon you must run
Because there are more than just one
But if you harden your heart
She will land a poisonous dart
That's when her work has just begun
Great word!