Today we begin a brand new gig, and believe you me, this one is big
A nasty man hid
behind the Bible, it was not hard for him, his sin is tribal
Two score years
ago he did prey, on boys and girls, that was his way
While he had the
trust of all his flock, he is your Priest, please do not mock
A teenage boy of
just fourteen, he’d missed his mates from his football team
He walked to
training, five miles away, when the Priest arrived to save the day
“Now young man,
what is the fuss?” “Well now Father, I’ve missed the bus”
“Don’t worry son,
I’ll take you there. An injury? I’ll give some care”
A groin injury
had lain him low, “There’s little about groins that I don’t know”
“Pull down your
shorts, give me a look”, the boy in trust, off his shorts he took
Then he put his
hand where he had no right; the boy, fourteen, he froze in fright
What happened
next I don’t need to say, the course of nature had its way
“Please stop
Father, what’s going on?” He did not stop, “It’s okay son”
Then his mouth he
used in a way obscene; soon it was over, what was once had been
The Priest his
mood it turned so foul, he blamed the child, who could but cowl
“Get on your
way”, his voice was blaming, “I don’t care, you can walk to training”
And for twenty years
not a word was said, until the guilt, it invaded his head
He told his wife,
before they married, of the shame inside his soul that he carried
Then later on he
told a friend, they both cried, it would not end
Then on TV he saw
the news, others came forward, and gave their views
So he rang the
cops, and told his tale, so keen to let the shame set sail
The trust
betrayed, he could not forgive, so many years of a life not lived
In the witness
box, before a jury, his soul he bares, hiding his fury
I’ll let you know
just what prevails, at the end of this, sad sorry tale
No comments:
Post a Comment