The Church Walls
There were so many outside sounds,
He would roam the church grounds,
As a slight mist falls,
He thought about the secrets
Behind the church walls,
A winding path led
To a small duck pond,
Where the ducks were fed,
Carpeted with water lilies,
As the drama played in his head,
It was an enchanting spot,
His face grew somber,
As the bodies in that pond would rot,
He became silent,
Staring into the darkness of the pond,
He was a disgrace,
As the mist covered his face,
He felt a presence behind him,
He was given a moment to think,
He tried closing his eyes,
But he would just blink,
And only his thoughts would holler.
As he tugged on the cross around his neck,
And then he slowly removed his collar,
Of course, there was remorse,
But it came after the fact,
And all the criminal charges
Remained intact.
© 2012 Frank Atanacio