The Confessional
Stood in a church today
And stared at the confessional.
That small booth for Catholic sinners.
That small booth where you kneel
And wait for the small door to slide open
So you can say, “Forgive me Father,
For I have sinned”’
That small booth where you
Can tell all or tell a lie.
That small booth where
Your sins are forgiven,
Only if you are really, truly sorry.
That small booth where
Every time I entered
I felt that my sins
Were not worth the time of absolution.
Roy W. Backes
© 2011
Roy W. Backes - Poetry 