First Edit: Sunday School

[vagabond]

Sunday School

I
Wine sipped in an unlit room,
to spill any is a sin.                                           to spill it is a mortal sin (for rhythm)
The mug shapes the liquid                          maybe get rid of "the" or just write "wine"
like a good parent should.                           maybe  just write "like a parent" in this line. because parents do this, whether they intend so or not..

“Father, is it Christmas yet?”

“Father, when is Easter?”

Old questions I'd like to think
are make-believe.                                             this part together with the questions above don´t hold meaning for me.   if it is there to set up the naiveté of the young character maybe you find another way.

II
Silence gives answers I'd rather ignore,
darkness supports it with a devilish smile.      ok. easter and christmas don´t really come.. the priest has a different aim anyway. (but i only understood that two stanzas further, so the word "devilish" seemed unfounded at this place)

The light comes on, flickering like his stutter,
salvation a lie my parents sold me
so they could buy a paper from their priest.                    "paper"? so, you mean parents educate their children to faith to gain some absolution that would save them from hell?  
yes.. that happens. still doesn´t draw me into your poem as it explains things a child would only know a lot later and which are not really relevant to what happens next from the subject´s viewpoint.

He used to leer at me, they never noticed.         
My blonde hair flowed through his fingers
like gold at the end of a rainbow.
My tears the rain that ruined it,                        
their anger thunder without lightning.                  i think "gold" and "rainbow" don´t fit in the atmosphere.. although they make good metaphors for faith. but i don´t have a suggestion how to go on after the second line.  

III
I am a snowflake
in spring,
pushed away
by god's breath,
surrounded by those
who only care
about their descent.
I will fall
and melt.                                                          i do not think abused children would think about what exactly the others care about. or maybe they do.. but it does not add to this stanza which should be describing how the child feels.   .. you might escape this problem by writing "i was" and putting it in past tense, like the above stanza.

IV
The wine burns now,
the whole way down,
even worse when it comes out.                 please get rid of this line, it is unintentionally comic.
There is staining, my hair is white,
untouched.                                                         though i understand how the consequences  all of the above lead to white, untouched hair, it remains a little detached to me, like an analysis in a psychology book.

Unanswered prayers dead in the grass,
the body dismembered, violated,
unrecognizable to loved ones.              if to loved ones, then it is  unrecognizable to anyone, so you can omit "loved ones" . since i suppose it is the priest´s body it is contradictory anyway. but all this is only comments to the story i get from this poem, so may not be relevant to your intention.
I'm the one who found the corpse,
thought it sleeping,                                           that doesn´t sound logical as it is so severely mutilated
played tough with the authorities
only to cry myself to sleep,
afraid to dream.                                               

please don´t be offended by this harsh criticism (i still hope parts of it are useful)
i´d have no idea how to shape a story like this into a poem.. maybe it is too much to try to describe and explain at the same time. it´s a pretty difficult topic you chose here.