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SAINT AGATHA

Poetry By: moonphish
Poetry


sad tale


Submitted:Sep 13, 2012    Reads: 13    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


how sad the life of agatha
she didn't ask for much
she saved herself for Christ, her lord
and not for man's foul touch

a man named quintianus
quite desired her in this way
but pressure never worked on her
or bent her to his sway

for she was ever faithful
and endured all trials and tests
and quintianus, angered
tore away this woman's breasts

and now she is depicted
with her breasts upon a tray
she only wanted to serve God
but man had made her pay

now, bakers see her image
and they see her breasts as bread
while those that run the foundries
say they look like bells instead

so here's to you, saint agatha
you are forever blessed
your twenty years on earth, a hell
in heaven now you rest




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