Traumatized as a boy, he confessed how
heaven knows how he knew, how to follow
each person in his parish to see why
Boredom, the Almighty, creates the now
uplifting the heavens, to allow lust
truth hidden in desire, empty, hollow
loquacious as a duck, cooked in stir-fry
everyone knew the priest, I knew him best
researched my whereabouts, within such trust
Despite the fact that I did nothing wrong
in prison, on Death Row, I rot, justice
defends the innocent but for a song
If a serial killer, Augustus
tricked the law to frame me, then, be my guest
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