Shaking His Hand

Before she had died, their daughter had a man
She called him hers, like he called her his, 
Yes, he was attractive; every girl at school was his fan

He had the smile that celebs would die for
They had met him once, and by that they could tell
He was sweet and kind to the core

Their daughter told them that he never touched her
Never forced her to do anything she said no to
But after the letter, they were no longer sure

Maybe she said yes, at first
And he made her the promise
To help quench the curious thirst

But as a boy, like all men, he began to want more
And then he would leave her gasping
Needing air after a swim, needing the shore

But then, they guessed, the one time she said no
What had he threatened her with
If she didn't let him go?

Whatever the case, he did anyway 
And their daughter didn't tell them
Afraid of what they'd say

So now they felt guilt for not asking for more info on what they did
What other secrets had she not shared?
And now they regretted not asking for what she hid.

The End

6 comments about this poem Feed