San Antonio

My God, I lost control, I had a fit.
This flesh is weak, those urges deep inside,
It was the Devil made me do it.

Those months before in bedrooms barely lit.
Those wild nights, each night a wild ride,
My God. I lost control, I had a fit.

Oh kiss me, lover. Kiss, caress this tit,
My breast, exposed—aching to be a bride,
It was. The Devil made me do it.

Oh yes, that's it. Oh, God, how wet this slit.
Oh find me, lover, let me help you guide.
My God! I lost control, I had a fit.

And now our baby's here—you must commit.
God, no! Don't leave me now—you must abide!
It was the Devil, made me do it.

I spilled your baby's blood, his throat I slit,
On him I fed—in my infanticide.
My God, I lost control. I had a fit.
It was the Devil made me do it.

Parker Allen Stacy, IV
7/31/09

Copyright 2009 Parker Allen Stacy, IV. All Rights Reserved.


Note: I was so upset when I heard the unfolding story of the heinous actions taken by Otty Sanchez that I felt compelled to write this poem. When you read about what she did, you will realize that the "course language" of this poem pales in comparison to what actually happened.

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