Shooting and bombing
And slashing and kicking
And burning and beating
And stomping and killing
And maiming and hurting
And knifing and punching
Over the fallen
Of his foes
On the other side of the Windows
Where Mummy doesn't go.
She's drinking a glass of Sauvignon Blanc downstairs
While her well behaved boy
Plays in his room, alone.
The babysitter isn't programmed
As a childhood withers
On the untended vine
He's caught the 4.0 Armageddon
Universal Serial Bus
To a place where
Darker fruit grows.
Try not to weep
As you reap
What you sow.
Martin O'Neill's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Babysitter by Martin O'Neill )
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