That B##ch Stole My Baby Poem by Christopher Gore

Blue eyes - round and glassy,
nose dripping wet;
lips puffy full
but with no voice yet.

From the stroller
and into my arms
I scoop you up
'I`ll keep you warm'.

I want nothing more
than to watch you grow-
with this agenda
I name you 'Rose'.

It's time to go home
and put you to bed,
but a darkness emerges
from the playground ahead.

'Who's this creep? ' are the whispers,
and 'what does he want? '
But it looks like this foe
will do more than just taunt.

Women swarm round
like a party of sharks,
preying poor me
(drunk in the park) .

A fat one approaches -
hardly a 'lady' -
and with an Amazon cry
the b###h steals my baby.