Crying Child Poem by Corey Baker

Scraped and re-done, over and over
given to the child, his parents grew colder
escaped a view, and he groped the covers

his father wore his own dress,
mother never seemed to care
about the the fantastic utter distress
and the child washed the blood out of his hair

he cried when he could, for all day was a waste
after school he would politely give chase
to girl he knew, he could never taste

Thinking and moaning, he soberly sighed
the broken hymen will bleed and then it will hide
and the child pointed to his head, and died