Laura's Son, by Maria Schrup Peterson, 2003

Oh sister, Sister, foolish one

Where has your sense of decency gone?

It is clear, hear, that evil has won

But I won't, will not, condone this wrong
that imperiled Laura's son.

Your lies have woven into a web of snares
of sadness, deception, misery, despair

and upon us you bestow this share

without concern, remorse of nary a care

in the world, except for yourself…

And in fact we won't be tangled

in a noose of such malevolent design

we refuse to be victims strangled

and now yawn, merely resigned

to your insidious ranting.

Instead the saddest thing we ponder

is that the trap of your own rendition

will instead, we quietly wonder

with sudden and terrible thunder

lead to your soul's perdition.

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