Absorbing Conversations Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Faded wooden walls of old, shining somewhat with modern polish
covering their aging parts, standing erect, never bending,
absorbing words from conversations over many years.

Watching many tears of sorrow pour from victims swollen eyes,
sometimes there has been joy, but it is seldom, because inside
these aging walls, only people with many problems have ever
ventured deep inside, talking to priests about things they
never dare tall any other living being.

Seldom is there any joy to be found, because when there are no
problems and everything is alright, people have no reason to
visit with priests inside these aging, faded walls.