Poetry

Bron Dayvid


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9 january 2012

The Rapist





You kidnap my son and hold him for Ransom 
Forcing him to speak an unknown tongue 
If he had legs I am sure he would run 

You molest my daughter and tell her lies like 
You love her and how you knew her mother but she knows the truth 
So her eyes you cover and her mouth you smother 

I'm your father now, you say
Your real dad past away 

You raped my wife in public sight for all to see
I sigh but don't cry for she still is in me 
So is my daughter and so is my son 
See what you thought you had plenty of turns out to be none 
Your pathetic 
I weep 
It saddens me to see such a shameful act 
But I also smile, how flattered I am to be your dad 
Was it not I who gave you birth 
Is it not I you see in your reflection
So as they cheer and as they praise know 
It was I who impressed them 








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