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The Girl is Bad Writings Browse Through Talk To Me DiaryLand |
The Preacher's Kid Preacher's kids are always in a mess. Why must I be a preacher's kid? The church folk
expect you to be perfect; I mean I ain't no angel at all. Far be it for me to cut the fool
and act insane, but that's what I do best. Whispers in the pews, yeah I hear 'em. "Lawd, that child needs to be beat." "She ain't no good, no way." "I'm glad my child don't act like that." Who knew saints could think that way. Trying to live in a manner that would uphold the
sacred clothe, but I'm just being a child. I wish I could make mistakes the way other
children do. Papa's never home. Somebody's sick or somebody's dead, so there he goes.
Mama's always in the kitchen baking pies and fanning flies. It ain't fair, ain't fair at
all. "Don't make me tell your Papa," the good deacon said with one breath and with
another he cut my Papa down. Don't they know I can hear them. Don't they know I hear every word. I'm just another
story of a preacher's kid. |
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