The Sweet Turns Sour

His gasping lungs were out of breath
when he rushed in the kitchen door
he couldn't wait to tell his mom
about his baseball games big score
filthy, hot, and sweaty
he just stopped to get a drink
he reached out for the glass
setting on the kitchen sink
his sweaty hands were slimy
they just could not squeeze a grip
his little lungs just stole a breath
when he knew that it had slipped
the glass was plunging to the floor
where he knew that it would hit
he hoped that it would be ok
but it shattered all to bit
then he heard a grumble
it came from another room
his dad had heard the shatter
and he stormed in none to soon
his face arranged in anger
and his hands clenched in a fist
he'd been sucking down his booze
cause the first swing only missed
it didn't take his father much
to make him really pissed
he saw the hand returning
as it latched onto his hair
and picked him clear up off the floor
where he was kneeling there
the hair it did not hold
for weight was too intense
and as he fell into the glass
he kicked out in defense
the shards of glass ripped through him
as he landed on the floor
the blood that splattered daddy
pissed his daddy off some more

then he felt the hammer
of his daddy's steel toe boot
it cast his little body
like a tree the wind uproot
dazed he wasn't thinking
as he reached out for his bat
but his daddy stopped him cold
when he stomped his hand out flat
the little boy just howled
as he felt his fingers break
Now what kind of a baseball player
do you think you'll make
his daddy picked the bat up
that was reached for by the boy
he laughed is this a weapon
it was bought to be a toy
then he swung it back behind him
and he brought it swinging home
it caught the boy across the thigh
and snapped right through the bone

the bite of pain engulfed him
now in shock he only moaned
he launched the bat across the room
it danced across the floor
then snatched the boy up from his spot
where he slammed him to the door
he pulled back a mighty fist
and then he let it roar
as it raked the boys small face
through the skin the knuckles tore
then he watches his boy
with his cries all but mute
as he pulls back his foot
for another harsh boot
the tread rips into his flesh
and now his jawbone is bare
hanging motionless open
it is no longer square
he pulls back agin
as the boy he starts to flop
then suddenly is startled
by his wife that's screaming stop

He tells her to leave
or that she will be next

She stares down the barrels
of the shotgun in her hands
with both of her eyes blackened
from the force of this man's hand
he turns to a click
that he knows all to well
but it is too late
BOTH hammers have fell
expelled through the door
lying dead there in her view

YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH
THAT WAS TOO LONG OVERDO

she crawls into the blood
without hope and without fear
to her limp and lifeless baby
that is lying without tear
she scoops up his cooling body
and she puts him in her lap
she says it's ok sweetie
you can take you a nice nap
then she starts to rock
as she calls to him in vain
and says tell me now my sweetie
just how was your game.

Author: Douglas Q. Plew