That’s a Face Only A Mother Could Love

Thats a Face Only A Mother Could Love prose poem

He was a lovely boy, sweet and sixteen; He had his birthday on July 18th…
On his very birthday, little did he know his worst nightmares were about to be true;
All of a sudden his house caught fire out of the blue,
But luck was on his card, he somehow survived…
But his face looked really weird;
It’s all burnt up you fool, he heard somebody said,
As his family was dead, he went up to the girl he loved;
She could only say, “I am horrified by your presence but somewhat saddened by your absence”
He was expecting such a reply but thanked God that she didn’t turn him away,
At least she recognized my voice he thought, but not for long,
She refused him, and left him forlorn…
His mind was in a full sway; not able to decide what to do,
The boy decided to end his life, “this is worse than being in hell” he thought.
But his mind caught something else…
Rejected, refused and declined everywhere made him tired,
After all who would love a faceless boy?
He had lost the ones, who were near and dear; now his conscience was absolutely clear,
He had to do something; he had to die with vengeance,
So he became the “faceless horror”, a deadly terrorist…
Killing people for fun, spreading in his little town, awe with terror;
All those who despised him because of his face had to pay the price,
He killed and killed until he could kill no more,
At last the once sweet but now devilish boy went to his girl and pleaded her to shoot him,
She did it with pleasure (as her parents met their end from me)
And I merely a spectator of these events, gazing stone eyed,
By the ‘once sweet’ boy’s grave… he was not bad,
I keep telling to myself and the people, the system made him so…
I kneel by his now very old grave and suddenly rain pours clearing of the dirt,
From the tomb-stone; and there clearly written on it was my name,
I was content that I had paid my price to Satan…

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