There is some soul of goodness in things evil
Would men observingly distill it out.
—William Shakespeare's Henry V
Spare me a few lines of attention, you pederast.
And you, paedophile.
Next time you cannot control your lust,
and control your words to subdue the infancy of a mind,
after quenching your primal thirst,
I would like to ask you a favour: murder that child.
You are right, you would probably get a life sentence;
much longer a time that would be than I dare to write.
Yet think of the benefits that you would bestow
upon the victim of your urge.
The prey would not grow into ruins,
would not wake up sweating out
distorted functions for penis, anus
and vagina—yes, cock, ass and cunt.
And if you think it is unjust to put a term
to such a springful shape, your yearn,
I think of one more option.
But if you cannot put an end to your life,
do me a favour: murder that child.
