Not a bedtime story III
An old man is looking at me
his eyes go up to my head
then down to my feet
and middle to my belly.
An old man holds my hand
he squeezes it hard
as he keeps staring.
"Open your mouth, little lamb", he says.
"Open it big like a woman".
An old man has broken my heart.
It's pouring outside.
I'm sorry, mommy,
stitches won't be of any use -this time.
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