THE CHILD OF SIN’S TALE

Lurking on an old memory stick, I found this written about a decade ago and thought it might amuse some...

THE CHILD OF SIN’S TALE

"There you are,” the mother said

As she hammered the sinner’s arse,

“The agony will live with me

But for you the pain will pass,”

The small boy wept like small boys do

And held his flaming cheeks,

“I thought you’re supposed to love me,

Not make me hurt for weeks.”

She shook her head, demonic hag,

That’s how he saw his mum,

And said with quite a fierce voice

“You’re turning into scum!

“Before my very eyes you are,

You’re up to lousy tricks

And it needs a clout or two, my son,

Some disciplinary licks

“To turn you into a worthwhile man,

A son to make me proud,

But instead what do you do for me,

But merge into the crowd.

“And they’re the ones who’re mean and cruel,

They vandalise the street,

They scare old women with their pranks,

And make misery complete.”

“But mum my bottom hurts like hell,

I’ll tell Smitty what you’ve done,

He’ll come and sort you out, be sure,

And you’ll die beneath the sun!”

“For Smitty’s wild on lines of coke,

He’s got a blade or two,

He’ll come and sort you out for sure

He’ll do just what he’ll do!”

She eyed him with a jaundiced eye,

She raised her hand up high,

She brought it crashing down so hard

It made her urchin cry.

They took her off, of course they did,

They locked her up in jail,

Her son went off to Smitty’s house

And told his woeful tale.

And when the mum came out at last

Old Smitty had his knife

And down towards the graveled ground

Fell a mother and a wife.

Her boy watched and cheered him on,

They kicked her bleeding frame,

And then they ran like bullies run

Knowing she would take the blame.

But too late! Upon that wretched ground

Where she painfully wept and cried

Too late came urgent help, too late:

The wretched woman died.

Inquests come and inquests go,

It was the woman’s shame:

Because he was so very young

He couldn’t be to blame.

So they fussed at him and kissed his head

And said he was so sweet:

He stayed with Smitty’s mum until

His education was complete.

© Peter Rogerson 15.01.17

Reviews

[themadballadist]

Wow. A mother's love often is disguised. Beautiful poem! And the dialogue..