Bribed With Ice-Cream

Walking into the old back door,
On into the front.
An older, chubby, taller man
Is pulling a nasty stunt.

As he sees the little girl,
He takes her by the arm,
Offers a box of ice-cream,
As though it is his charm.

Sent to sit alone in the yard,
The little girl eats slow,
Wondering if the ice-cream
Hides what she doesn’t know.

Written by Gail Brookshire