Prozac

by jescelle   Aug 29, 2004


One Prozac a day,
His medication doesn’t help this kind of sickness...

His wife is a babysitter,
He does this to his children too.
He’s disgusting,
This is what he does.

His Godchild,
Only a year,
Stays over for a party.
He takes her upstairs,
To change her diaper.
It takes him much longer than it should...

His fingers undo the diaper,
Little pink pants on the floor.
His lips in places they shouldn’t be,
Fingers there too.
Hand jerking,
Baby’s crying,
Mommy’s off to do some shopping,
Daddy’s off to fish.
God help her,
The first time she really cried... it hurt.

Uncle Joe eat me she said with a smile,
Unknowing,
Having no clue of why,
Just telling mommy of what fun they had together,
Oh what fun?

Semen on the sheets,
Oils detected by the doctor,
Court found the verdict,
Not guilty...
Mommies crying,
Daddies mad,
He could kill him,
He really could,

Someday shell know,
Exactly what happened,
But for now she’s forgotten,
At least she’s nieve...

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments