Horror and Thriller Fiction posted April 14, 2015 | Chapters: | ...24 25 -26- 27... |
The worst kind of child abuse
A chapter in the book Reflections Of Color
The Snake
by Brett Matthew West
The author has placed a warning on this post for violence.
The Snake
Psychotic. Hypnotic. And always on the make
The whole town knew he was nothing but a snake
A son would soon be born to this lout
He spent his whole life knocking him about
Battered and bruised from head to toe
The boy kept quiet so no one would know
Hellbent on the whiskey that was always there
He ran the whole house with deep despair
His wife was no stranger to being beat
Her shattered heart lay dying at his feet
There was no hope only deep fear
If water in her eyes should appear
A two by four and a bullwhip
If the boy made a sound he was sure to get hit
His only friends were sorrow and strife
What a way to live such a young life
Then one night when the moon was black
The snake took a bullet in his back
As he lay bleeding on the ground
He watched his world come crashing down.
The son that shot him did not care
There were no feelings left anywhere
To the town he was no hero just an outlaw
A noose and the gallows was all he saw
I Remember writing prompt entry
The Snake
Psychotic. Hypnotic. And always on the make
The whole town knew he was nothing but a snake
A son would soon be born to this lout
He spent his whole life knocking him about
Battered and bruised from head to toe
The boy kept quiet so no one would know
Hellbent on the whiskey that was always there
He ran the whole house with deep despair
His wife was no stranger to being beat
Her shattered heart lay dying at his feet
There was no hope only deep fear
If water in her eyes should appear
A two by four and a bullwhip
If the boy made a sound he was sure to get hit
His only friends were sorrow and strife
What a way to live such a young life
Then one night when the moon was black
The snake took a bullet in his back
As he lay bleeding on the ground
He watched his world come crashing down.
The son that shot him did not care
There were no feelings left anywhere
To the town he was no hero just an outlaw
A noose and the gallows was all he saw
Psychotic. Hypnotic. And always on the make
The whole town knew he was nothing but a snake
A son would soon be born to this lout
He spent his whole life knocking him about
Battered and bruised from head to toe
The boy kept quiet so no one would know
Hellbent on the whiskey that was always there
He ran the whole house with deep despair
His wife was no stranger to being beat
Her shattered heart lay dying at his feet
There was no hope only deep fear
If water in her eyes should appear
A two by four and a bullwhip
If the boy made a sound he was sure to get hit
His only friends were sorrow and strife
What a way to live such a young life
Then one night when the moon was black
The snake took a bullet in his back
As he lay bleeding on the ground
He watched his world come crashing down.
The son that shot him did not care
There were no feelings left anywhere
To the town he was no hero just an outlaw
A noose and the gallows was all he saw
Writing Prompt Begin your non-fiction autobiographical story or poem with the words 'I remember...' Complete the sentence conveying a moment, an object, a feeling, etc. This does not have to be a profound memory, but should allow readers insight into your feelings, observations and/or thoughts. Use at least 100, but not more than 1,000 words. The count should be stated in your author notes. |
Recognized |
Thanks benhar for the use of this incredible picture that so wonderfully fits my lyrics.
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