A Game Of Empty Religion Poem by Louise Tredoux

Life was made for death, life is begun
so death can come, father hates me,
hates me terribly, you don’t want to
take me into a life of poverty, you want
to marry properly and set up a home,
how shall I survive until then, will you
come visit again, when, when, when?

I have nothing left to live for, without
you; serving tea, smiling vaguely, doing
embroidery, taking care of father, serving
breakfast, listening to his tirades about
sinful humanity, about me, failing a test,
one measly test and it were best a stone
were hung round my neck and I be drowned
in the sea

There is nothing for me, the earth is spitting me
out, I’m a dead volcano, a sinner lost, I must bide
my time, you say if I wait, you will come for me, all
done correctly, you won’t expose me to rejection by
society, that is very noble, but I’m bleeding inside,
feeling shame and rejection, life is just a game
of empty religion…