Writing Kitchen [PG]

[Ellven'and]

[COLOR=DeepSkyBlue][SIZE=2][FONT=Arial][I][CENTER]Bobby James came home;
He toted nothing, said nothing.
Mother saw him and smiled:
A sinister, sadistic curl of the lips.
Bobby gave her a strange look.
Mother owned a gun...
Bang.

Father had been out working;
He heard not of this, saw not his son.
Mother saw him and cooked:
A delicious, satisfying meal.
Father pulled something from his mouth.
Mother disposed of them...
Bones.

One week passed;
Father was worried, Mother was not.
Father asked about his son:
Questions that would seem normal.
Mother picked at her fingers.
Father looked into her eyes...
Guilt.

Father took her in;
She was questioned, asked about Bobby.
She told them nothing:
Answers did not cross her lips.
They went home that night.
Mother got her gun...
Bang.

Another week passed;
The neighbors came over for dinner.
Mother greeted them and cooked:
A delicious, satisfying meal.
The neighbors thanked her for the meal.
They handed her the plates...
Fridge.

The door swung open;
Oddities beyond recognition were within.
Mother tried to hide it:
The ghastly scene of death.
The neighbors turned her in.
Mother paid dearly...
Death.

Their house was sold;
Years passed, nothing happened.
The family's son was born:
Bobby James was his name.
They lived peacefully.
Nothing too strange...
Kitchen.

Bobby James came home;
He toted nothing, said nothing.
Mother saw him and smiled:
A sinister, sadistic curl of the lips.
Bobby gave her a strange look.
Mother owned a gun...
Bang.[/CENTER][/I][/FONT][/SIZE][/COLOR]

[Umbra II]

Good. Creepy, but good. I liked how it loops at the end, setting the whole thing off agian. I can't really fix the structure, since it doesn't rhyme and I can't put my finger on the rythem. But excellent poem nonetheless. I can't really critize this one.