The Holy Sisters of Perpetual Punishment

This was the fate of a friend of mine. Spare me, Lord, from your holy servants.


 

Bitter winter, wind-whipped snow

Chilblains burning, six below

Dragged along by unloving hand

Is this what your great God planned?

 

Holey shoes, Holy nun

New, lonely life begun

Slap to ear, hurry along, boy

I’m an orphan now, gone all joy

 

From now on you belong to us

No time to dawdle, no time for fuss

Onto the bus, brief relief,

Tearful eyes, heart of grief

 

Father did not return from war

Mother ran off with a yank, the whore

Left behind, unwanted trash

Just a drain on charities’ cash

 

1947 I’m five years old, always cold

Fed on gruel, poor winter fuel

Food’s on ration Holy Sister’s of the Passion

My guardians now, stern faces, frowning brow

 

Just can’t win, everything I do’s a sin

Requiring instant punishment

They won’t relent

Until I’ve learned to fear their god

 

I hate your god, he’s a cruel sod

The sisters they see nothing odd

In wrapping a child head to feet

In his stinking piss-soaked sheet

 

We’ll teach you not to wet the bed

Shame on you, clout to head

Had to stand til the sheet was dry

Another whack if I dared to cry

 

Twelve years of punishment and penance

Always threats, always menace

Now free at last, the past long gone

But the lifetime memories they live on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

© pronto 2019
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