com sempre, demanen perdó massa tard !!
(per veure’n més clica vull llegir la resta de l’article)
I was an unmarried girliand’d just turned twenty-sevenwhen they sent me to the sistersfor the way men looked at mebranded as a jezebeli knew i was not bound for heaveniand’d be cast in shameinto the magdalene laundries
Most girls come here pregnantsome by their own fathersbridget got that bellyby her parish priestweand’re trying to get things white as snowall of us woe-begotten-daughtersin the streaming stainsof the magdalene laundries
Prostitutes and destitutesand temptresses like me–fallen women–sentenced into dreamless drudgery …why do they call this heartless placeour lady of charity?oh charity!
These bloodless brides of jesusif they had just once glimpsed their groomthen theyand’d know, and theyand’d drop the stonesconcealed behind their rosariesthey wilt the grass they walk uponthey leech the light out of a roomtheyand’d like to drive us down the drainat the magdalene laundries
Peg oand’connell died todayshe was a cheeky girla flirtthey just stuffed her in a hole!surely to god youand’d think at least some bells should ring!one day iand’m going to die here tooand theyand’ll plant me in the dirtlike some lame bulbthat never blooms come any springnot any springno, not any springnot any spring
Slave labour:
Magdalene Laundries disgraced Irish Catholic women