Not a slut, but a frequent transgressor,
She said to her father-confessor.
Was sex still a sin,
If not all the way in,
Or, perhaps, she hoped, somehow, a lesser?
Tag: sin
Eternity
The poor girl, she was tortured infernally,
Doomed, she expected, eternally,
Once she gave in,
Though she’d known it was sin,
But goddamn! It felt so good, internally!
The rough with the smooth
Her upbringing was godly and stuffy;
She’d come home, though, drunk, eyelids puffy,
A just-rooted grin,
Having opted to sin,
And, by choice, with boys rowdy and scruffy!
The impotence of prayer
Women pray to their various gods,
Pious whispers and gestures and nods.
If their gods only knew
The lewd things they then do,
They’d be damned, but then, what are the odds?
The unspeakable
A small sin, just a slight moral lapse,
A small act of rebellion perhaps.
She’d kissed … never mind who,
And gone down on him too,
And quite possibly (fill in the gaps).
Apple of his eye
Through the stained glass, the light fell to dapple
Her splendid young bosom, in chapel,
Delicious temptation
To cohabitation,
With which Father Riley must grapple!
The apostate
Since she’d got over God, thoughts of hell,
She found life much more fun, truth to tell;
She’d go out, get a skinful,
Come over all sinful,
And get herself rooted, as well!
Strayed
Having given in, frightened, dismayed,
She knelt down, right there, naked, and prayed.
“God, I know it’s a sin,
But I’m blaming the gin…
Could it be, somehow, maybe, okayed?”
Ablution
“By confession, one gains absolution,
Incest,” the priest said “self-pollution.
Worse too, I daresay;
All one’s sins washed away,
Or at least undergone some dilution!”
Sheep gone astray
How on earth to religious girls cope?
Kiss a boy and allow him a grope,
Like as not giving in
To lust, ecstasy, sin,
Trying hard not to think of the Pope.