Thursday, 3 July 2014

July 3: Today we begin ...

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

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