From birth, he puzzled his mother, he worried his dad. 
He had an innate ability to drive them both mad.
He said things he knew they did not want to hear.
It broke both their hearts when his new gender appeared.
His friends were all addicts, most of them thieves.
Their arms covered with tracks under their sleeves.
They sent him to college, got a fool in return.
He loved spouting the lies, he had eagerly learned.
His mind had been darkened, he lost track of the light.
He hooked up with Antifa, proving he wasn't too bright.
His parents disowned him, he was robbing them blind.
He was stealing their savings, putting them in a bind.
They suggested counciling, he objected, refusing to go.
He claimed to be functional being addicted to blow.
He assaulted them physically, they called the cops.
He was out the next day, all charges dropped.
They prayed every night asking God to step in.
God can't help you he said with his new evil grin.
He took over the basement, he was up night and day.
24-7 he and his perverted buddies partied away.
His parents grew desperate, a deprogammer was called.
He was back upstairs in a flash, scared and appalled.
He said "Your son is a demon, your house is possessed.
They listened in horror, they were totally stressed.
They decided to move, they abandoned their home.
They fled north to Alaska and resettled in Nome.
Their house became Satan's Playpen the scourge of the town.
The neighbors got together and burned the house down.
No bodies were found, no charges were filed.
The community had been cleansed, everyone smiled.
Their son disappeared, he'd been called back to Hell.
The birds in the treetops were singing "All is well, all is well"
D.L. Crockett -- 3/18/23