Confession

Father forgive you, for you have sinned
I barely know where first to begin
Good Priest why is it you cannot see truly
the Demons in the Pews in front of you daily
The one with bone broken hanging her arm
is on vicadin, percoset, and a host of pharmaceuticals
that would make your head spin to allieviate pain and spells
of the hormonal drift from a hysterectomy, a junkee
distorts her vision, truth and judgment but not as bad as another one
She is less out of her vile mind than the tortured one
Let's see what else your innocent eyes cannot see
The one with the fixed glazed glare has possessed you
with a demonic co-dependency which glues you to her side endlessly
and drives off anyone close to you which threatens her paradise
She has a host of lust demons named legion too many to thrust
into a herd of swine, while she entertains you just fine
and your soul is bartered like a living Martyr-only to the devil.
Your love lost like an island buried under volcanic ash
You trust in rumor instead of love from above
and let her run your entire social universe
You doubt your own heart and run from it fast
pursued by the demons of your past
and those sitting right in front of you
Front and center pew.
For the one who couldn't buy a date
will suffocate a Priest with her demanding attentions
until the life force is sucked dry and he dies in her arms
so she can latch on to the next one like leeches
Helpless to her hideous ugly charms, like leeches
on a floating dead fish. Fair Warning. Do what you wish.
Do what you want to.

Your penance Sir, is quite up to you.