They raided the shack, of a
fellow named Jack, with a warrant to search for his pictures
His computer they seized, he
was not very pleased, “Don’t you know I’m a student of scriptures”
“I’m not saying a thing, and
this looks like a sting, what is it you think you might find?”
His stock it was massive, but
his demeanour impassive, “I am really not that way inclined”
He called up a lawyer, who
said I’ll speak for you, get the boss cop to the phone
“Jack won’t say a thing, to
his silence he’ll cling, take what you’ve got and leave him alone”
She said there’s no way, that
he’s going to stay, we’ll charge him and then cut him loose
There is so much CP, it’s
disgusting to me, now piss off and don’t be a goose
It was late in the day when
they took him away, in cuffs in the back of a van
In the dock he sat shocked,
of his life he took stock, and of this process he was not a fan
But he just sat and kept
mute, cause he had been astute, there was nothing to find it was hid
Those programs he used, would
keep them confused, there was nothing there under the lid
Almost all of his stock was
in FolderLock, encrypted and hidden away
From young prying eyes, who
could only despise, if they found where he liked to play
Downloaded from others,
people he called his brothers, with a similar bent state of mind
Safely locked and encrypted,
his freedom was scripted, when zero CP they would find
But he just didn’t know how
far they would go, for forensics; a walk in the park
So many times down telephone
lines, their bite was much worse than their bark
Thousands of files, with
images vile, each one much worse than the last
For you Mr. Jack, your
toothbrush do pack, that life that you had it is past
He was a schoolteacher, a
sometime church preacher, entrusted with the minds of the young
But at night he converted,
into something perverted, as online his sick lyrics he sung
On Skype he engaged in
conduct depraved, with a young man who came from Brazil
Their clothes they discarded,
cameras focused they started (their antics are making me ill)
Jack’s counsel advised, you
are screwed mate no lies, unless you can give us the culprit
The person who did it, and
from you who hid it, you won’t be ever back in that pulpit
So he planned an escape, a
confession he’d fake, and his former young mate could assist
As it formed in his head,
some words could be said, even better if his charge was half pissed
“Mr. H me old mate, I need
help with my fate, can you just say the words on this script
I’ll get you protection, 128
is the section, you need not be concerned you’ll be tripped”
So a tape he did make, but
there was a mistake, when five minutes into his plan
The recording it ended,
conversation suspended, so he went back and started again
To his lawyers he ran, so
pleased with his plan, “give these files to the Crown” he exalted
But the Crown they were wise,
didn’t fall for this guise, said, no, not a chance, we’re revolted
But we are not surprised; you
will be despised, when all those who know you do learn
You’re not the person you say
that you are every day; and your friendship each one will spurn
The trial it began, friends
and all of his clan, their support for their pal clearly present
Then the jury was told, what
was about to unfold was something much less than pleasant
When the Crown closed its
case, there was barely a space, for this horrible man to escape
But he had other ideas; he
had no fears, as he donned his Superman cape
In the stoush with the Crown,
he would not be put down, his opinion he threw at the jury
When accused of the crime, he
retorted each time, barely concealing his fury
“Mr. Crown” he would spit,
“that’s nothing like it, someone else has confessed, you know well
Get him in this place, throw
those facts in his face, and listen closely to what he will tell”
So young H he was called,
Jack’s supporters appalled, he took an oath and began to tell all
With Jack’s counsel he
sparred, but when he got to the car, the lies and deception it stalled
Through his evidence led,
very slowly, not sped, to the point at where he would say
“I’ll have that protection,
that is my election, and after I get it we’ll play”
But H couldn't lie; he broke
down and cried, and looked to his friend in the dock
“I’m sorry”, he said, as
tears he did shed, while Jack simply sat there in shock
“I can’t do this no more”,
and he stared at the floor, then his head with his hands he did stroke
Lengthy silence began, how
long would it span, then slowly, the witness he spoke
Everyone in that court, we
all had the same thought – Mr. H was about to confess
But what happened next, left
most there perplexed, leaving Jack’s secret plan in a mess
“It was all a great sham”,
and through the facts he then ran, how Jack picked him up for a drive
To the pub for a beer, and to
the car he would steer, as his friend began to contrive.
But Jack, he had said,
through his evidence led, that H knew not of the taping
It was all done concealed, as
H had the wheel, but H told the truth, Jack was faking
But if that was all so, then
how could H know, of the five minute break in the tape?
He had to be there, it was so
abundantly clear, and of his fate Jack could now not escape
The Jury agreed, returned
with some speed, five verdicts that told that they knew
That his lies and deceit, his
attempts to defeat, and to set up his friend it fell through
Bail was refused; his good
luck was all used, deceiving his family and friends
His whole life was lie; for
him they will cry, but ‘tis better that all this should end
To jail he’ll be sent, but
he’ll never repent, as he continues to lie and deceive
“It just was not me, and one
day you’ll see, that it was me that you should have believed”
But as he sits in his cell,
on his past he can dwell, of his conduct so vile and repulsive
And when he’s set free, maybe
one day he’ll see, the harm caused by his conduct, compulsive
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