Altar boy
The smell of incense still revolts,
Draging me back to the day.
Of deep dark secrets, never to be spoke,
Under threat of ridicule and pain.
An altar boy, I was one time,
My grandparents so proud.
Roman Catholics, both of them,
The priesthood, surely I'd been called.
But in the darkness of the church,
Evil lurks, with no escape.
Don't you ever tell anyone,
Not your parents, not even to God.
I knew it wrong, I was ashamed,
I tried to tell my mom.
I got no help, no sympathy,
Just punished, for my insolence.
My life's been hard, I carry this,
Just like a crown of thorns.
I speak these words, not for penance,
But to get it off my chest.
If it can happen to a boy like me,
It can happen to all the rest.
Retribution will not cure me,
Letting go, might be the best.
This is the second part of the first poem I wrote today. This is a rewrite, i made some minor changes to tone down the anger.
The priest who committed these atrocities is dead.
2007-06-21
10:49:36
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The Dark Prince
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