MaiChildAbusePoamByMeIt'sNamedTryston

His name is Tryston,
His sister is four,
She laughed as she slammed his foot in the door.
A stream of curse words danced from his mouth,
I shot him a look yelling,
"You better run South!"
He screamed an scrambled out the door,
The sad part is,
It was raining downpour.
I grabbed my gun,
A rather large one,
And chased after him.
His sister in my pocket
I shot at his ear socket,
And he was no more.
The police never knew,
Hell, they probably wouldn't care,
about the young boy named Blair?

lololILOVEYOUTRYSTON.
And I know it's bad. Don't remind me.