Devil In the Priest.

 

The man with a white collar and dressed in black said hello young man and welcome back.

I had been here before, before I had run away hoping that finally my social worker would listen to what I had to say.

It was normal for someone who is only a child, that they assume everything we say just means we lied.

Once my social worker left, I was taken to my room, bare walls and floor, bunk beds the bad boys dorm.

I was sent to this religious home because there was nowhere else for me to go it appears I had run out of normal children's homes.

By rights this should be the safest place for a child to live, well that's what the church would have you believe.

I was told to stay there until the bell rang for tea then one of the sisters would come and get me.

5:00 PM came the sister shouted out my name, I run out the dorm got shouted at and told off again.

When you are hungry as a child you will eat anything, but I can assure you the food in this home is the worst I have ever seen.

Whatever it is, it always smells like dog or cat food, the water you drink is the only thing that tastes any good.

During eating we are never allowed to talk, after tea it is off to the Chapel in single file we have to walk.

Three times a day we were forced to go and pray to God, even if you are not religious this I never understood.

I always did my best to avoid going in, this place was hardened my hatred of any religion.

The man in black performs in front of the altar, hypercritical words are all I hear from the preacher.

Justifying to us that it is God's wishes that they do what they do; by only listening to God's word will we know the truth.

Apparently, you cannot think for yourself in the Catholic faith, and there are many groups of people who are sinners, and we should hate.

Once the preacher is finished and all God's words have been spoken, we can leave the Chapel, but we will be back at 6:00 in the morning.

Now for two hours this is the only time of the day that we the children are allowed to talk and play.

But even in play there are strict rules we must follow, if not you will feel the back of the sister’s hand I will not be allowed to play tomorrow.

We want playtime to never end and go on forever, but not because we are having fun, and we are all together.

But because when playtime ends its bedtime, and this is the time we all fear, this is when the man dressed in black will reappear.

It is in God's hands this time which one of us he will choose, to receive god's love as he would say but we would say abuse.

Once in bed although we are not religious, we all say a prayer asking that the man dressed in black does not appear.

I know if it is not me today it could be tomorrow, none of us have any choice, it's God's wishes and words we must follow.

 

Nataiella (1975) Childhood Memory.

Please also take a look at the other poem i have listed this evening ( Christmas Morning(.