When he was young, he wet his bed
And ended up with busted head
Although a child, he did not cry
Instead he prayed, that he would die.
One day he spoke, said I am hungry
As he searched the empty pantry
Instead of food, he got the belt
Across the back, a bloody welt.
When he was twelve, he ran away
Out on the streets, no place to stay.
In darkened alley, he did find
Depths of evil, the human mind.
The boy grew up, and lived his life
Grew successful and took a wife
No one would guess the life he led
Back when a child, when wet his bed.
That is but one, his faithful wife
Who felt the wrath of his past life
No way to know, no way to warn her
That he had come, from out the corner.