You may have thought the first installment was just a nightmare. I assure you it wasn’t I have returned with another installment of True Crime Poetry.
This one is a little more obvious than the first. If it disturbs you, good. It’s supposed to. It was disturbing to write. How you’re disturbed by it is entirely up to you.
“Tragic Nursery Rhyme”
Five little angels
Sleeping in their bed
Mommy’s gonna come
And make you dead
Mommy doesn’t know
Right from wrong
So she’s gonna wait
‘Til Daddy’s gone
Five little angels
Sitting in the tub
Mommy’s gonna drown you
Glub glub glub
Mommy hears the voices
In her head
That’ll be her reason
Why you’re dead
Mommy’s gonnal call
Nine-one-one
So she can tell the cops
What she’s done
Mommy gets sentenced
To life in jail
She’s no more use to Daddy
So he just bails
Mommy’s lawyer says
Not so fast
The trial may be over
But it won’t be the last
The sentence was reversed
On a technicality
A witness for the state
Watched too much TV
This time around
Mommy’s found insane
For following the voices
She hears in her brain
She doesn’t go to jail
But still gets put away
Daddy says he loves her
But Daddy doesn’t stay
Why isn’t Daddy
Put away as well?
He’s the one who made
Mommy’s life hell
©2006 Trench Reynolds. All rights reserved
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Aye, that is disturbing.
Very thought provoking.
nice poem-rhyme whatever. defintely something ill sing to little kids im babysitting when they’re misbehaving