literature

Sins of the father

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Hiddendemon-666's avatar
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Literature Text

Come into my confession box, and tell me your sins.
Listen to my words, and ignore my hands.
Stifle your cries, and let God do his work.

I'm healing you my son, so dry your tears.
Your skin smells of ivory, your body so pure.

The only sounds are the rustle of robes, the brushing of skin.
No one will believe your lies if you tell.
I see your tears, and I comfort you softly with the words of our lord.

The deed is done, your body blessed.
The same time next week, I'll see you then.
Saw something on 60 minutes about this, and thought I would write for it. I'm in a poetry mood...
© 2011 - 2024 Hiddendemon-666
Comments48
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KomaedASS's avatar
ugh.... religion has been one of the biggest disappointments I've ever endured.
[I like the poem, by the way; along with all your other writings.]