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The Children of Limbo' (Canning Poetry)
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 Sick to my stomach.

I am alone and thinking.

I have heard of the sunken pit.

That covert crypt of angels. 
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 Eight hundred innocents!

Eight hundred defenceless souls!

Without baptism, without sin.

Dishonoured by Brides of Christ.

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Followers of the orders of the Father,

Of purple clad men of robes and rings..

"Bless me father for I have sinned.

"Go in peace my child, I absolve thee."

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I imagine sights and smells,

when their wheezings stilled.

Their transportation to a dark chamber.

No Hail Mary's for them; Oh no!
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No 'Our Father's' for a 'stained human'

A "bastard spawned in sin. Undeserving".

No splashings of holy water on the tiny wraps.

"Off you go now to your state of Limbo".
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I'm thinking.. "Thou shalt not kill"

I'm thinking, "Did they? Surely not"?

I'm thinking, "suffer little children".

I'm hoping they will now reach Paradise
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I think of my country; subservient to a hierarchy.

Sisters without mercy. That holocaust of infants.

How many more gardens need turning, how many?

How many tots await their first blessing?
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My faith is suffering now. I am in limbo too.

I fear, my mother's examples I might abandon;and

I am angry; tomorrow, perhaps I will pray;

but only for the children; only for the children.

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