Meade – Orphan’s Breakfast

Orphan’s Breakfast

Through stained windows
little eyes plead
verdant sky twists morning
rain spews across the pain

Bowls of porridge
cold toast and jam
hide shallow graves
carved into the compassion of pine

In the chapel
orphans sing
in tattered shoes
vacant of souls

In sacred chapel
and blessed robe
he turns wine into blood
prayer into lust

In hallowed hallways
vultures hover
over the lost
and the snared

Where blackened talons
scour the night
scar the lepers
scrape candles of light

Through stained windows
dawn falters
as little boys
scratch at the doors of heaven



Patrick’s bio

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