Poetry Throwback

Wrote this one at the end of Summer in 2007. Very touchy and sensitive one but nonetheless a relevant subject!

Multi-Syllable Criminal

Description: 6'8 mixed race; Police have distaste for his face, he's labelled a mixed-race shit face, whose morals are misplaced and a disgrace to his race, they vow to handle his case and put him in his place

I wouldn't take this from these racists but lets face it, the guy's a rapist who takes kids, strangles them with laces and covers their faces with traces of.........can't even explain it.

Their aim? to find him and blind him on sighting but only with good timing will they peak into the dark behind him and find his light skin, for he'll be fighting and might swing like a viking but with every cloud comes a silver.....

With patience they catch him, eyes laden, his caucasian "patient" cries with tears so blatant, yet this half asian and half bajan's face remains so vacant

In the car he doesn't speak, words of his musn't reach his mouth for another speech, so he turns the other cheek and only utters sleep

At the station he sits there in his chair, poor skin scare with nits in his hair, he has this stare like he's been here, almost like he's lived here, the interrogators promise to handle him with care but are they sincere?

They offer him no redemption as question after question they they mention the acts on a gent's son performed by this rank scum! and as the time lengthens the theories strengthen and it becomes clear he's in contention for a life with no pension

Speaking to himself he sighs "These eyes breathe life, for behind me lies a disguise that these guys couldnt see twice, they strong but me shy, them tired but me fine, in the meantime I will define the deep crime that me finds so divine" he then describes in three lines, each crime

Its to difficult to describe the visuals this individual spoke of and ridiculed, the description is nothing miniscule and far from biblical, his use of things digital and the emphasis of the physical makes this guy from Liverpool's story most pro-criminal

Its that smirk he has, so senile, he smiles while he freestyles on every child he's abused in the space of three miles, meanwhile the interrogators look into key files

They shake their heads in disgust as they continue to discuss his lust for kids, plus his mistrust for the non-peadophilia in us...as a people. He says kids trust his love, this must be insanity

The officers dont want to hear no more, no encore, they beat him so raw he falls flat on the cold floor. They go for the low core so sure he wont be able to abuse no more, doctors will find no cure. The triggered reaction by officers with a family of four.

They hope to throw him in jail with males who treat him like she-males so he wont prevail. Do I need to explain in detail? In scale this fails to be a cure for all those greived males and motherly females in conditions hard to entail. He laughs "any chance of free bail?"

He stands parallel with the jury, who are truly honoured to have the duty of condemning the moody man with pleasures so unruly. His final words to the jury are to see things loosely "every kids a ruby, prove me wrong". Words are hardly moving

Jury Speaks: The verdict is a guilty, a man so filthy we feel should be banned from these streets
Judge Speaks: Indeed, despite his pleads he needs a sentence of a decree that mirrors punishment for murder in the first degree
He Speaks: Kill Me? We'll See! Fill these arteries with pills please, watch me bleed and we'll see if Im the only one who warrants the word guilty!

He sits there in his chair, poor skin scare with nits in his hair, he has this stare like he's been here, almost like he's lived here. The two officers handle him with care and prepare to inject him with their thick pair of syringes. But is this fair? Do we dare to, or have the right to kill and cause more despair? It is clear he has no heart in there but again is this fair? However can they take a risk here and give him slim years and then place him on a list where it states "He lives here" leaving kids scared?......it's weird......He sits there with fear, there's a sudden gust of brisk air and he shares his final words so sincere "Are there any kids here?"

Copyright 2007

"Poetry is nearer to vital truth than History"