She was born in a building
with a thousand other children,
and the care that was given
was as little as the legally possible.

There was dust on the floor board.
There was glass in the cupboard,
but no love from a mother.
There was no god in the convent.

With all the fairytale stories,
with the hymnals she was singing
praising sweet hallelujah
heaven’s bells kept on ringing;

But the room was so cold.
The bread was full of mold,
and if she didn’t do what she was told
the nightmares would become
her reality of pain.

Since she was a female
since she had a ******
she had no say in her life.
She was the property of the church.

So, she died in that prison
never really touched by another
not a kiss from a gentle lover
or a hug from her father or mother.

With phlegm in her throat
with the fevered shivers
that moved her figure
she was lost in the church
and died another lonely body.