The idea of owning, new, tight, fresh, innocent shoes.
At first, they’re tight but slowly but surely you can make them loos
The concept itself is self explanatory
New Shoes feel so good!
Now, imagine having a new shoe every time you wanted one
Now don’t be greedy, change your shoe when it gets too loose.
Children that are unaware are the easiest prey
My temptations and impulsiveness runs deep in the mind
I saw my neighbors son, licking his lollipop from the corner of my eye at the park
I walk up to him and smile, making sure his parents aren’t looking
I put on a fake mask for him, to step foot in my trap
Once he’s in,
HE WON’T LEAVE
I make sure he’s quiet covering his mouth when he screams
After all, it is playtime and his screaming
I take him to my car and sit him in my lap
Groping every inch of him
6 year old Timmy, is tight, fresh, innocent, and new to this
My blood begins flowing and ultimately causes me to have an *******.
I unzip his pants,
I **** him
His grunts and calls for help
After I finish, I whisper to his innocent ears
“It was fun getting to know you, No one has to know about this. After all, you just came to my house for a playdate”
He responds excitingly,
“I’ll tell mommy about all the new games you taught me! What is this game called?”
I respond frantically,
“I call this game, Simon Says!
You don’t have to tell Mommy, only tell her if she asks”
At 6, Timmy was clueless, this continued for over 6 months
At one point, Samantha, my neighbor, asked her son Timmy to tell her all about my quote on quote “nephews”
he played with
“I play with Eric, not his nephews”
Samantha shocked yet hopeful asked
“What exactly does Eric make you play, Timmy?”
“We play Simon Says, Mommy! Sometimes he makes me touch his *****, other times he tells me to bend over for him, but only if he says Simon Says before the action,”
I know this because at 3 AM
A group of 6 men knocked at my door with guns pointing towards my head
I was convicted and registered as a
A ******* *** OFFENDER
I’m facing 45 years to life in a 12 by 12 room next to old, raunchy, ***** men.
I’m not the Eric the neighbor, I’m Timmy
I’m 19 now and I wrote a poem about you to reflect on how you changed me
I’m mad that you made me this way
But I forgive you
BUT only because I blame myself
For holding it in
For being a dumb kid
For deserving every moment of it
For following your rules
And ultimately for trusting you...
You were 38.
I was 6
Now I’m 19
And you’re 51, serving a life sentence in jail
The Devil comes to us in different ways.
Sometimes in a black draped cloth, beautiful and unforgettable. In my case, in a black t-shirt and in a new, tight, innocent pair of shoes.
I hope you enjoy! I’m nee to this so message me for any corrections