Poor pale child, sickly and slight
Really quite a sad, frightening sight.
But he was not always like this;
Once a bundle of robust joy and bliss
With rosy red cheeks and a fat chubby tummy
Who adored his devoted, caring mummy

But as the months wore on,
More things just seemed to go wrong.
Pneumonia, lead and arsenic too
Asphyxia, anemia and Spanish flu
His poor mother stoically pushed on
Caring for her poor sickly son.

But wait, something became apparent
As one thing healed, yet another ailment
More dastardly than the last.
His mother still steadfast
But oddly glowing with pride,
As she hovered by his bedside

Things got weird, and decidedly extreme
As they found faecal matter in his bloodstream.
They got suspicious, (its hard to poo into veins)
And they found the mother to blame
She stuttered and spluttered, denying all knowledge
Of the poop filled syringe, in her purse.

Munchausens by proxy

Don’t kill your kids….

based on a true story 

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