Black Shepherd
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Pray, why?
Scrape them off
The "little" people - your sheep
Pied paupers of your parochial perspectives
Mud off a work boot, scraped on the sill
Washed cowardly clean by countless tears
The veiled weep of mothers, the ache of their empty wombs
Shrouded for shamelessness' sake, the greater, holy good
Brushed with conscience under the rug of reputation
Pray, what horns do skull caps hide these days?
What more heinous evil than that which wears the mask of God?
A sacred, divine trust, centuries built
Sullied for sordid saints and their horrid piety
The wee ones, the priceless, pure and precious ones
Fed with good faith to fawning fiends
Robed and collared monsters with a shepherd's hook
Meant to stoke their rapacious hunger for the innocent
Behind a smile, a good deed, and a cross ...
Pray, who IS ... your God?
~ Honorable Mention ~ in the "Black Sheep" Poetry Contest, Anthony Slausin, Judge & Sponsor.
(For all those abused by people in places of authority and sacred trust)
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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