*RATED: PG-13
*DISCLAIMER: Harper Lee owns the characters in this poem.
*AN: Woo. I'm the first to be nutsoid enough to write in Bob Ewell's POV.
(If I am mistaken, please email me.. We'll do lunch.) Please understand
that although this poem describes a father's attraction to his daughter, I
in no way, shape or form support pedophiles or anything of the sort. I
wrote this while trying to get inside the mind of Bob Ewell. It was a
spooky experience. Anywho, if you do not wish to venture further, I
wouldn't mind.. I just felt that this should be brought into the open, and
also I AM NOT A RACIST! I AM ANYTHING BUT! This is Bob's voice. Yes, I
know I'm going a bit postal, but I just want you to understand me.. Oh! And
the slang and usage of improper English- well, that's self- explanatory
now, ain't it?
~*~*~*~MY MAYELLA~*~*~*~
I seen you through the window
That window may be mucky, but I know I seen you, pretty Mayella
Smilin'
Kissin' that Negro boy like you was lower than trash
That look of happiness spread about your sweet face
Like, mud-
Mayella.

I'll teach you to act that way
You'll have to think up somethin' mighty clever if you want to stay
In this house
Whore.

You went and done shamed our family
Did you think you was high and mighty- like some garbage dump queen,
Mayella?
Pullin' 'way
That boy didn't want you and no one ever will
The look of fear spread across his dark face
Like a disease-
Mayella.

Like a sickness crept from a swamp itself
Ain't nobody want to swim in filth
Like you,
Slut.

You're gon' feel the way I felt
The hurt way I felt when I seen you there, Mayella
Green envy
No Negro boy gon' sep'rate us
That look of love on your dusty face
I'll beat it off,
Mayella.

Tom Robinson, don't you see?
Ain't no one gon' take my Mayella from me
Not even Black boy thinkin' he better, tall
When really
He small.

You said you'd never try that 'gain
I hope you hold true to that word, Mayella
Wounds n' tears
As you fought to win my trust once more
That look of guilt on your young face
I forgive
My Mayella.
~*~