Robes.A Poem by Thomas Fitzgerald
My thoughts after reading "The Rites" by Matt Baglio
The holy men in their black robes,
Spouting innate ramblings of peace and love,
Honour thy neighbours and families,
As long as you pray to the dove.
Take his body and blood,
Cleanse your soul and mind,
Glancing at the altars helpers,
Feeling that sick little grind.
Preaching solidly about poverty the virtue,
Helping others in defiance of ones all,
Black robes living in their ivory towers,
Gorging on decadence off the eager fall.
A solid union in a powerful city,
Closed ranks under a voted leader,
Silent side glances and rumours,
Empire splits by this very reader.
© 2012 Thomas Fitzgerald
Wexford, Leinster, Ireland
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