Love Poem: False Accusations, Part V
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Written by: David Welch

False Accusations, Part V

...Even worse as his youngest grew bigger
he noticed things that had him quite alarmed,
the kid had blue eyes, Whitney’s had been brown,
his were brown too, he could not understand,
his facial features were not like Jerry’s,
he felt things he did not want to believe.

Jerry ignored it as long as he could,
but that dark thoughts just kept building in his head,
not long after his youngest had turned five,
to a doctor the young child was lead,
“Just for a check-up,”Jerry told the lad,
hoping against hopes the results weren’t bad.

But when it came back several weeks later
it became clear the youngest wasn’t his,
he knew that it must be Alan Price,
what other man would Whitney have lain with?
He told not the kid, that would be a crime,
but inside resentment burning in his mind.

He raged at his wife for betraying him,
and Alan Price for destroying a home,
raged at the universe for taking them,
the objects of his vengeance now were gone,
like his wife before, he stared to drink,
and as time went on even more did think.

He’d known of his wife divorcing Alan
back before they had gotten together,
thinking from her place, seeing it all a hoax,
helped him too see the thing all the better,
to be torn between two loves, both alive,
he could see the confusion born inside.

And thinking of Alan, smeared as he was,
feeling so desperate he’d take his own life,
had Jerry been there, and feeling like that,
would he turn down a moment that felt right?
When half the world thought you guilty of rape…
all based on a lie, ruined by such hate…

But understanding only goes so far,
and Jerry needed an object for rage,
this started with a false accusation,
that Jesse Malinche maliciously made,
had that lying  not started this all
then none of them would’ve faced such a fall.

Jerry had never been a big gun guy,
in fact most would’ve called him bleeding heart,
but one day he walked into a gun store,
he had no record, or crime he’d had no part,
so there was no reason to stop the sale,
no reason to suspect that he would assail.

That night gunshots were heard at Jesse’s house,
the police came, saw him on the front step,
mumbling madly, his mind clearly gone,
his hands with blood were stained red, and quite wet.
They took him away, found Jesse inside,
dead in her bedroom, with glazed, waxy eyes…

CONCLUDES IN PART VI.