She was never late to the cathedral
No one noticed her withdrawal
Her knees were sore because she knelt
Before the Christ statue and wept
His dear life she prayed to redeem
There was no one to help, no money for feeding
A good life was what she dreamt
She worked endlessly, cleaned, washed, swept
But he never got better
No friends to comfort her
It was just her and papa
Always has been since the death of mama
The day he died,
She went to the statue but never cried
Simply prayed for forgiveness then
Put a bullet through her head
The priest came out with the gun sound
A dead girl was what he found
He thought quickly thought of where to hide the body
So that the offerings would keep rolling in.
I don’t know why this made me laugh
Wow…I love love love the pace. and the end is so unexpected. Beautiful
That’s the dream
Thankks for finally talking about >Offerings – poetry poetry and more spoken words <Loved it! http://Earthjp.net/youtube/