TAUGHT RIGHT FROM WRONG
In the fifteenth century I was always taught right from wrong,
Not to steal or lie, answer back or mingle with the throng,
For I was a nobleman’s daughter, the poor weren’t like me,
There were mere riff-raff, always dirty and ugly to see.

The poor could not have feelings, know of love and pain,
Hardly human beings at all, to me that was very plain,
At church on Sunday’s in summer I always took a fan
To try and waft away their smell, that was my plan.

The house staff were better than the beggar at the door,
But not to be mixed with and talking to them was a bore,
Not at all inelegant, well beneath our status and class,
To be ignored if outside we might happen to pass.

The time came for me to depart this glorious life,
Not ever knowing cold and hunger, or pain and strife,
I was taught the truth, all brothers and sisters are we,
Then I was knocked out of my tower of mock ivory.

Barefoot Martha and begging blind old Billy Joe,
Just like me can of God’s love partake, I didn’t know,
I found my parents they will not listen to what they say,
But I know it makes sense to me, so I’ll listen and obey.

Today a commoner came to the temple, my name was there,
I had a mixture of joy and sadness, as I became well aware
That everyone is equal in the sight of God both rich poor,
All looked the same as they changed inside the temple door.

Father, please forgive me, the way I was taught was all wrong,
Now I want to hold hands with the poor, sing a triumphal song,
Go heavenward rejoicing, find my parents and let them know,
They were blinded, and old ideas learn to live and old let go.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson 28 February 2004