Conversion, Not Conviction
He put his hands on a little baby
His thoughts and actions, total impurity
Does things that, to us, are so obscure
The kinds of things no one wants to hear.
His 9 year old son,
To his head- Dad holds a gun-
"Now you do as I say," trying to
convince the frightened boy,
"You'll like it, we're only going to play".
He has found his mark
Breaking into her home,
he planned to embark-
in the middle of night
the coward rapes her in the dark.
She is almost eighty
has always lived in love & safety
A happy life she has always lead
Until he beat her over the head
Spread his seed and disease
leaving her for dead, he simply fled.
Immediately thereafter,
He was caught,
his life now a disaster!
Behind bars they want him,
for "Some kinda social sin."
A sweet talking lawyer
convinced the jury he "had problems"
"No need for prison, sometime in a
Mental hospital"
"Conversion, not conviction."
"After all, most testimonies are
pure fiction."
This is the reality we, as a society,
face every single day.
Forget converting these freaks,
sexual predators - molesters
and child **** geeks.
I say fry 'em all
and let them know what it feels
like to be so helpless, so small.
A. Green
Trafficking
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
