ramblings and things
Confessional
Confession time at St. Charles's,
Two Confessional in use,
But outside the door of each
Two very disparate queues.
Outside that of the Bishop
A few you could count on one hand,
Outside that of the Monsignor
An ever growing band.
I considered this
For a little while
Then asked a woman
Who said with a smile,
The Monsignor and the Bishop
Both good and God fearing
But the Monsignor, bless his soul
Is so very hard of hearing;
Confession is a catharsis,
A purging of the soul
So much easier when the
Confessor doesn't hear it all.
I made a quick decision
The way we fellows do,
And very quickly joined the line of
The Monsignor's growing queue.
Confession time at St. Charles's,
Two Confessional in use
But outside the door of each
Two very disparate queues.
Confessional