Best Maris Poems

I was taught to run,
to shun, avoid.
My falling down, my scrapped knee was the punishment of my betrayal.
I suffered guilt for having too much, 
shame for too little.
Love was earned through penitence, 
some of those and these, 
by rosaries
The notebooks were in order, 
the same...

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The church has given up on me.
Giants of bureaucrats sit on their thrones
Referred to as justice
They have their agendas
Call it by any other name
I call it prejudice.
No family to call my own
Empty mansions
Unoccupied rooms
The halls are empty
My car has no passengers
I live alone,
drive alone
dine alone
die...

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