submitted by Jamesey Lefebure, Liverpool, UK

As he lays his head down to sleep,
Little Mike keeps his ears open,
For the carpet muffled sound of feet.
The familiar shadow who has a date to keep,
With an unquenched hunger for child meat.
As foreign shadows jump and dance around the room,
Our little Mike tried to embrace the surrounding gloom,
One ear open – both eye’s closed
Poor little Mike awaits his doom.

A sliver of light cuts through the dark,
Bringing invisible icicles that form on young mikes hear;
Knowing this is how it begins, Mike stiffens his body
And prays for the end of his part.

He feels the breath on his neck,
It’s hot, its cold, it’s dry its wet,
Mike lets out a whimper, the hairy hand tightens it grasp
Mike knows his nearly paid tonight’s debt.
The breathing is faster now, Mike knows its close to an end
This violation is almost over now, Mike’s heart can slowly begin to mend.
With eye’s closed tight, Mike begins to pray – a nightly plight.
He prays to the god of puppies, football sweets and treats.
But as for now –his young body is the meat.
Mike is only a child, his body was once pure.
He wishes for death; like it’s his only cure.
Poor Mike’s has not had the life that a boy of 7 should deserve
But in his innocence he has hope to preserve.

The shadow is over his face again now,
The act is over and both actors must take a bow.
A figure of power and trust,
has ruined Mikes life with his perverted lust.

The shadowed figure lingers in the door,
a part of his body twitches for more.
He breaks the silence, with words that carry the usual bite.
“I love you Mike”

His eye’s wet with tears,
his head giddy with childhood fears,
he moves his mouth and whispers

I love you Dad.