It is no surprise my soul has sunk below the water line
I lost the race to suppress the evil in me.
I had a morsel of hope, for the feeling of shame
Would act like a hand to pull me back to reality.
I would not wait in line to vote that Spring
would bring forth the changes
To prevent my soul from becoming charcoal
It is inhumane to ask the congregation
For more prayers, rosaries spoken on my behalf.
I am beyond redemption…
© Anita Dawes 2021