Paedophile Priest 2A Poem by RonVersion 1! That sometimes happened. Version 2. Happened all the time.Lord! I am your loving servant, You, only, understand, Hear my prayers, confessions too, As I entwine my hands.
Twas You O Lord who gave me needs, That must be gratified, Molestation of young boys, While safe, in priestly guise.
Thank God! You introduced me To Jesuit Priest, Father John, Who’s needs I did assuage!
Taken from my dormitory, To his adjacent room He gently slid pyjamas down, Above me he did loom!
Yes! I was sworn to secrecy, And God above does know. That priestly acts are sanctified, Well! Other boys said so!
So I too joined the Jesuits, I found it very well! Through the night, this acolyte, Was passed from cell to cell!
Then came the time, well qualified, I left the Abbey See, To serve the Lord in Africa, For Childrens’ Charity!
Dispensing food and other aid, I soon found out, it's true, The things a starving boy will do, For Soap and drink and food.
Then back to Britain, famous now, For good work overseas. A faith school teacher, I’d become, “Boarding” if you please!
How well I taught, St. Joseph’s School, Scripture and biology. Every night "Come here boy From your dormitory!"
Lord taught me to manipulate, Bully and cajole! Secrets kept with bamboo stick, And the fear I'd locked in souls. Percy Green, I think it was, Who let our secret fall. Filled with dread at the telephone Transmitting Bishop's call. "Father I must see you soon. With utmost urgency." (Said the voice of Bishop Black Who ruled my local See.) I stood abject at the Bishop's desk Melancholic, feared and wan. Frighted winds assailed my head As a lecture he began. But Erasmus Black was a Jesuit. Who at my Abbey taught. And one of those, who loved me so, With evil deed and thought! "Father now, you must learn the touch 'tween love and lust. I send you now for counselling. And then, win back our trust!" He said all this with a smiling eye, And an understanding way, With Lordly grace upon his face This punishment relayed! "More than this, I transfer you To Ballybunnion's moors. Those wild winds will swiftly give Your indiscretions cures." To Ballybunnion I did trek, Lord! Thanks, to Bishop Black, A new and cosy Irish home, My life soon back on track. First I chose the Altar Boys, Such simple country lads. Soon they stayed in my spare room, "Praise heaven! Mums and Dads." Then the youth club! Then the choir! I started fresh and new. Providing me with fresh young lads To hold, caress and view. Now retired. Lord! Time to die? "Oh answer one more prayer? In your mercy, tell me now. Are there boys for me up there." © 2010 RonAuthor's Note
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3 Reviews Added on September 9, 2010 Last Updated on October 14, 2010 Previous Versions Author
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