What Ever Happened To Good Old Fashioned Evil

 
He stood tearful in the dock
Not because he felt sorrow
He had told of how his parents
Had systematically abused him
Not because that was the truth
Truth be known, they hadn’t
He had a really good lawyer
Who’d schooled him what to say
Taught him, how to look forlorn
How to look like the victim
His Lawyer had bought opinions
A Psychiatrist to explain to
The judge that he wasn’t bad
A psychologist to titillate the jury
With sexually explicit story telling
A social worker to make his plea
And offer their future full support
The victims of his crimes given
Little or scant regard by those
Now defending and supporting
This monster

He fainted in the dock
Was helped to his feet
He didn’t really faint
His lawyer had told him to fake
At some point in the proceedings
Giving the impression of weakness
He told the judge and jury:
How guilty he felt every day
How much remorse he carried
What the voices had told him
None of this was true
He was told to say this
A lawyer who cared more
About winning than the truth
The acting was legendary
An Oscar winning performance
Not a dry eye in the house
Sadly not for his victims
Sadly all for him
This monster

Despite the charges
Two charges of child rape
Four sexual assault of a minor
There was to be no jail time
Other soft options being considered
Care in the community
180 hours of voluntary work
A new bought and paid for
Identity and comfortable life
He didn’t break a smile
He had been told not to
Not a time for air punching
He shook his lawyer’s hand
His head bowed low
Leaving this hallowed chamber
This monster

I followed him to Jack’s Bar
He was obviously celebrating
We exchanged stories of ego
Stories of criminal escape
Lots of shots, lots more laughter
He fainted in the backseat of my car
He hadn’t really fainted
I had deliberately drugged him
He awoke strapped to hospital bed
In my cellar and workshop
He would tell the truth
Well before I was finished
He would cry like a six year old
Well before I was finished
My voices loudly told me
Slowly torture him to death
This monster

I had to comply
I had no real choice
Don’t get me wrong
I enjoyed every second
I was exposing real evil
Good old fashioned evil
This I saw as my duty
Albeit just as a hobby
But truth be told
I had some responsibility
After all I was his lawyer
This monster

“The only cycle of abuse I am aware of is a BMX with no saddle.”

David Macleod 2017