Beyond Pissed 

This monster, 

Who preys on children, 

His lust devours him whole, 

His imagination sips through the black hole. 

He should go through hell, 

While he is still breathing, 

His kind fits to get, 

An eye for an eye. 

Death is too kind,

Imprisonment is too soft, 

He should not have human rights, 

He is no human. 

He showed no mercy,

To the children he preyed on, 

Why should mercy be shown to him, 

He is plain evil. 

He abused them, 

He molested them,

He tortured them, 

He killed them. 

Where are the rights of this children, 

They are the humans, 

They are the innocents, 

Now they are lost souls. 

How many passed through his hands, 

How many pleaded for him to stop, 

How many pleaded for mercy, 

How many went through hell. 

One is too many, 

A dozen is a stike to the heart, 

One hundred is insane, 

And to lose count is beyond the threshold. 

This children should be playing, 

They could have been doing their mischief, 

They should be running around,

They should be laughing wholeheartedly. 

Maybe even the saints, 

Will have a hard time forgiving him, 

Maybe even the kindest soul, 

Can't find a soft spot for him. 

Even among prisoners, 

His kind is among the most hated, 

They themselves have honor among themselves, 

His kind is the lowest of the lowest. 

Yet, he is allowed to continue to breathe, 

Isolated in his own cell, 

Reliving his demented dreams, 

His mind filled with pictures. 

Freedom, 

Cry of these little ones, 

Freedom, 

Pleading of chained hearts. 

Where is the mercy, 

For those wise eyes, 

Where are the embraces, 

For those empty arms.

Where are the innocent kisses, 

On those chubby cheeks, 

Where is the love, 

For those bleeding hearts. 

Writer's note: Composed Sept. 12,  2016