Comments about Marisa Bisson
The Boy Who Stole
My dad walked in and said he believed me,
And I felt I should tell him,
But the guilt was deceiving.
I sat there hoping that I could die,
As the store manager dragged on
And time slowly went by.
The evidence came and piled up,
And I knew that I had lost my father’s trust.
He stared at me and did nothing else,
His eyes so sad,
That they burned through my skull.
I could feel him staring,
At the back of my head,
And it just made t harder to confess.
My father knew,
He knew it was true,
And now I would be swallowed by ...