Thought Crime 2

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by Daniel Guy

In a cold, black, heartless night
Three little maids in long white dresses
Stand in a line at the end of the lawn
Each looking up at an upstairs light

Frank sits on his empty bed
In his vest, finishing a cigarette
Sad eyes blink at an empty wall
Wishing he was dead

Under a blanket he hides
Curls up tight, his body clenched
Knowing he will not find sleep
Before they come, the ghosts outside

She holds out the back door key
The others follow her up to the house
Silently they step inside
Three little maids to set him free

Fists tight as waves of gloom
Flood once more into his brain
Poor Frank suffering in silence again
Night after night in his lonely room

Three little maids form a bedside queue
One pulls off the blanket slow
Another one spits into her hands
They know exactly what they must do

Frank, ashamed, lies quite still
Feels their warm breath on his skin
Turns and lies out on his back
If they can’t help him, who will?

Three maids climb onto his bed
Undress, caress his face, and cock
With their long black hair, their lips and hands
Three little angels anoint the dead

One grips the shaft of his erection
Another one sucks the tip and then
The third sits down gently on his face
But Frank has no objection

Frank comes, the little maids dress and go
Softly closing tight the bedroom door
Franks slips way to sleep
Wishing he could say no



Daniel Guy 

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