What was stolen?

‘What was stolen?’

The detective said

As she put pressure

To her head.

 

‘What was stolen?’

The detective asked,

Her mind went straight

To her past.

 

‘What was stolen?’

He asked again

Her mind he saw

Daydreaming.

 

‘What was stolen?’

His fingers clicked.

Thoughts in her mind

Like pictures flicked.

 

‘What was stolen?’

Impatience kicked in

About to vomit

She ran for the bin.

 

‘What was stolen?’

He said with rage

And clicked his pen

Upon the page.

 

‘My life’s been stolen!’

She blurted out

‘My babies gone!’

She began to shout

 

He went pale,

Demeanour changed,

Her attitude

He felt was strange.

 

‘I’m so sorry!’

He did convey

His brow furrowed

In dismay.

 

‘Will you help me?’

She asked with conviction

He tried to share

His prediction

 

‘Kidnap is

A serious crime!’

‘I know!’ she said

‘The kid is mine!’

 

‘Mine?’ he asked,

‘What do you mean?’

Her eyes glazed over

Ears full of steam.

 

‘Her father took her!

I am sure!’

Custody battles

He couldn’t cure.

 

He put away

His paper and pen,

In a soft voice

He asked her ‘when?’

 

‘Last night

He came to the door.’

‘Has he done

This before?’

 

‘Yes he did

On another occasion

But gave her back

With great persuasion’

 

‘So this baby,

Was she abducted?’

In his mind

Files constructed.

 

‘I don’t know

It’s all a blur’

‘Did the said

Abduction occur?’

 

‘Rocket science

Isn’t in question?

Abduction was

Your suggestion!’

 

‘I know it was

Detective I’m sorry!

To have brought up

All this worry!’

 

‘Miss I need

You to listen!

Are there drugs

In your system?’

 

He nearly had

A heart attack,

When she said

She was on crack.

 

‘Is your daughter

Really gone?’

‘Where in the world

Did that come from?’

 

‘Drugs can amplify

Your situation.

Is this all

Your imagination?’

 

On the door came

A wrap.

‘I’m sick of dealing

With your crap!’

 

‘Come to the station

If you’d rather!’

Then sure enough

Came the father.

 

In his arms

Was the baby.

A very sweet

Little lady.

 

‘Do you have custody

Of this child?’

His blood was boiling

Going wild.

 

‘Yes sir,

What has she said?’

His mind racing

Full of dread.

 

‘This woman claimed

This babies stolen!’

The father looked

Her eyes were swollen

 

She had shed

Lots of tears,

And looked older

Than her years.

 

‘I’m sorry sir

She’s on crack!’

The woman was

On the attack.

 

‘You sick bastard!’

Took my baby!’

‘You need to settle

And listen lady,

 

You reported a

Serious crime!’

‘Yea but sir

That babies mine!’

 

 ‘It’s still a felony!

Yours or not!’

 

‘I’m sorry sir

I just forgot.’

 

‘You need to come

Down to the station.

My colleague says

You’re on probation.’

 

‘These drugs you’ve used

Do you possess?

On using them

You have confessed.’

 

‘Yes sir she does

Check her bag!

She’s a coke head

Little slag!’

 

‘Now now no

Need for that!

Down to the station

For a chat!’

 

He pointed to her

And she agreed

A very messy

Call indeed!