Play.

iPsYcH0

Children go out and play...

When they grow up...they'll learn to masturbate...

That's why they are always late..

Coming to the dinner table with their plate..

Go and choke on a piece of cake...

Or go drown in the lake...

No food for you...

You disobeyed your mother's rules...

Those closed doors are children crying in their rooms...

Them children are worthless trash...

If you have no kids you must be glad...

Watch them all play their sexual games..

Always get high or runaway...

See different color condoms in their rooms...

Oh well...you tried...you lose..

You'll get pregnant real soon...

Go die for goodness sake...

We'll try to bury you in the lake...

All the money will be passed on to me...

The money I should take...

Oh pain is sweet...

All the children's blood I shall keep...

All the liquor I will buy and drink...

Call me crazy or a freak...

When it's time for me to die...

I'll die in peace...

All that's left is my niece...

I should get her money and kill her next week...

  • Author: Ester (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 23rd, 2016 14:53
  • Comment from author about the poem: slowly coming back. This poem is simply about a mother wanting her children dead for money.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 13
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news

Comments1

  • Augustus

    Wow. Sick mother. I'm almost afraid to say I like this. I believe you did a good job of putting yourself in the mind of someone who would kill their children.

    • iPsYcH0

      AWW thank you.



    To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.