Agony Aunt

Do I go to church? No, I don’t
In what I should do, I’m defiant
Will you ever go? No, I won’t
As you can see, I’m self-reliant

I have a phobic aunt who jumps
Every time someone mentions God
In the night, she hears all the bumps
Hates being on her tod

Alas, this woebegone relation
Every Sunday takes her favourite pew
She’s really into adoration
Attends to be cleansed through and through

Afterwards, she would trot home humming
Absolutely certain she’d been saved
But every night she’d hear something coming
A thump of a heart that’s depraved


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