Young girls; when first they were incarcerated

By tyrants dressed as penguins full of glee

Shouted at,abused with no sign of forgiveness

Buried as old dears with  housemaids knee

 

Last one closed;(just pause ,slave labour on our doorsteps)

I think, not long after nineteen ninety three

Washday everyday,time off (of course) for prayers and mass

Generating copious profits for the holy see

 

From dawn till dusk no kindness shown, no mercy

Hypocrisy though shown daily to one and all

Fine food for meek nuns and priests to savour

Bland food for life's sinners in stark halls

 

These pitiful poor creatures  condemned to  slavery

Kept under wraps ,out of sight ,oh yes,and out of harm

Forgotten deliberately by kin and even their close neighbours

No appeals process, no-one to call or raise alarm

 

All the while the church's coffers swelling

Slave labours cost effective bar the food

Beatings or a thrashing never harm did

Besides its a sure way to stop their glances rude

 

Even in death no dignity afforded,

No flowers, wreaths, or loved ones saying bye

Their lot, to lie in unmarked graves for decades

Till builders dig em up spark hue and cry

 

Survivors till this day they live amongst us

Living life and dealing with their pasts

Tortured souls who firsthand had their live's robbed

Because a priest, nun or parent decided that that's that

 

As for the laundries, all are gone now

They stood, as prisons more then a century

Inflicting  continuous suffering, pain and sorrow

No human rights or wrongs just misery

 

No trials for the perpetrators, no fetters , bonds

No inquisition apportioning the blame

No culpability or apology from Rome

Its enough to make survivors go insane

 

 

The sad thing is its still hushed up not open

A bitter taste is what it leaves for you and me

Not condoned from scripture only condemned

Aren't we glad we weren't in a Magdalene laundry