Wednesday, 25 January 2012

He Spies the Child - (from my poetry book, Encounters)

He stalks through streets where no one cares,
as hookers sell their battered wares.
Where run-a-ways have gone to ground
and Gangland deaths are honour bound.

Where Pimps and Perps fulfil their needs,
regardless of their victims' pleas.
Evil's sick stench, scents every door,
and addicts come to make their score.

He seeks to salve his malcontent
by hunting down an innocent,
craving  purity that he can taste,
he spies the child, then seals her fate.

She walks the slums where she was born
bedraggled, hungry, cold, forlorn.
Her mother died whilst turning tricks
The victim of 'Just one last fix.'

In self-defence, she grew up fast,
struggled to escape her past,
with hopes of casting slums aside,
of finding someone warm and kind.

Enraptured by a man with charm,
he promised that  he meant no harm,
disguising well his true intent,
then tore away her innocence.

Now every night is Halloween,
since the age of seventeen.
She turns the tricks, he takes the treats,
compliance held through drugged defeat.


  1. A grim poem that gets a message across.

  2. Thank you Bob, that is what I was hoping to achieve with this one.

  3. Hi Laurie. I think you've done a great job in capturing the unfortunate reality for the many who find themselves in this predicament. It can sometimes be a little challenging to know how to respond to a poem based on this type of subject/issue - ie. it would almost feel a bit perverse to say 'I really loved that' when the content is taken into consideration. However, I really enjoyed the manner in which you conveyed the message and the images and emotions it invoked. I look forward to reading more of your work. Best wishes. Jeff.

  4. Morning Jeff,

    Thank you for your wonderful amd supportive response to this poem. I agree that it is often hard to know how to comment with content of this kind, but I am pleased that you felt I conveyed the message, images and emotions that I had intended.

    Best wishes,