Wur in RE an the nuns are gien
oot sweeties, fur getting the kweschins right.
Three oota three, then she’s askin mae who Jesus’ mither is.
‘Ah doan’t know sista,’ ah tell hur.
She isnae happy an tells mae tae hink aboot it. So ah dae
an ah wurk oot Jesus wis god. It wis a trick kweschin,
‘he didnae hiv ah mither.’ Ma
sweet stoats aff the side ae ma heid.
She’s spittin in ma coupon fur a name, an
diggin hur digits in ma neck.
‘Ah doan’t know who Jesus’ friggin mither wis!’
Miraculously ah float tae the front ae the cless. Ma haun’s oot,
bit ah doan’t hink shill hit mae wae that big stick. Thwack!
Ah look doon it the bloody gash through ma puddlin
eyes, ‘yoo’ve broke ma haun’ ah croak,
then turn roon an boak.
Categories:
gien, abuse, education, religious, school,
Form: Bio
In this world around us
Many are quick to place blame,
Its society that made them this way
For it releives them from shame.
Homeless are without a job
Who really know's if its his choice,
Children going without food
People don't even hear their voice.
Our poor senior citizens
Trying so hard to survive,
Our government cutting benefits
Not caring that many aren't alive.
Healthcare now very scarce
Nobody can afford a single pill,
Does anyone really care now
Have we gien up on free will.
Isnt it time for america
To stand and say go home,
Fight your own battles now
We have enough of our own.
Categories:
gien, life, peace, people,
Form: Rhyme