So of course he was addicted,
If massage was a lesson in school,
He would’ve picked it.
All his pocket money went to the local masseuse.
His mother was angry
She threw a fit like Zeus
Then she tried it and became the same.
It was her sons fault
In her eyes he was to blame.
He tried to run but she went berzerk,
She shouted “I’M NOT DOING ANY HOUSE WORK! ”
There was no food on the table and no clean clothes.
Her husband said “this marriage is full of burnt oaths.”
She went mad and her husband left her,
She saw only red
her vision was a blur
In a rage she put her son under a steam roller
he was happy he told her,
this is where he died at ease
getting his heavy final squeeze.
phillip whiteman's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Massaged boy by phillip whiteman )
- Love don't have no name on it!, Shirley Morgan
- There Was A Time, Kyle Schlicher
- No Such Thing As Handicapped, louis rams
- Here I Am, Kyle Schlicher
- Destroy hunger, gajanan mishra
- Treachery is a Treacherous' Red, Aftab Alam
- I'll Be There, Brandon Ezzard
- DESIRES, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan
- Vast open, hasmukh amathalal
- He Is My Default, Saiom Shriver
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
- Heather Burns
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(22 March 1941 -)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)