Poem 4

I stop first by the church for help for aid
I want to find her family to rest
To put this sad body inside its grave.

“See here young man
Your heart is full of good
But put your Christian charity
Where a good Christian should.

You find a body in the day
It smells of rot
Begins its decay.

You want someone to know this woman is dead
But this is no godly woman son
Her gloves are lace
Her dress is torn
I am sure this a woman of scorn
A whore.

Leave this body I will place it in the ground.
But I will be given no trouble to track her kin down.”

Be she a whore or be she not cannot
I accept this line of thought and belief.

I gather my cart carrying body
The cart laid heavy with mysteries grief.

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