An Ode to Molly

Reads: 242  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
A little something inspired by recent events.

Submitted: February 06, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 06, 2013



A mother of two sits patiently by the phone

For the eldest of two to call back home

When the phone rings she is rather quite happy

But as most stories go, this one isnt too sappy

The man on the phone says ma'am we have a problem

She talks all assertive like shes capable to solve them

The man says "Your boy is the in the hospital

He took something strange and his death is probable"

The woman sits back with her face so cold

Her pride and joy, her baby boy, was only 19 years old

"He was hanging out with some crooks doing activities untold"

The family car in a ditch, upside-down and rolled

The mother asks if her boy was in it

The man quickly replays the tale, so quick and vivid

"The boys started the night out with a couple lines

Of a powder, all white, chopped up so fine"

The mother demanded to know if her son did coke

But a solemn voice on the other end just paused and spoke

He said "ma'am its a terrible hour, four past three

He was dragged out of the car not a scratch on him very quickly"

The boys checked their texts and to themselves they read

But when the cops saw their eyes, they were quite dialated.

"Your son did some Molly, a new designer drug

Got it at a house party off of some mug"

Did his first line, started to feel great

Until he finished what was on his plate

He rolled so hard he couldnt snap out

Overdosing and dying, his friends threw a bout

Tossed him in the car, fast as a rabbit

The rest blew more to support their habit

"Halfway between Windham and Westbrook they took a mighty spin

A deer in the road is what did them in."

The mother in disbelief started to bawl

Got in the hospital room and couldnt believe what she saw

Her gift to the world was on a hospital bed

At five twenty three, the boy was pronouced dead

The scumbags he was with got off just fine

But to their suprise, they had to dress in all black, at a quarter to nine

This story doesnt end on a positive note 

Like a good sailor dont put yourself in that boat

A life of crime will leave you locked up or dead

Crying in your cell, or with a noose around your head








© Copyright 2017 JohnWayne117. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Mystery and Crime Poems