Simon's both artist and poet...

He's not too full of himself. But here's a poem that ADA Dillon Warstead will try to use against him...and only make things worse.

Freddy

By

Simon Halloran

When they grabbed Freddy, they had knives. 

Which made no sense; they all had wives. 

But blindfolded, and gagged and bound 

Off he was taken, with no sound 

Down in a room, so dark and strange 

Where he received no chance to change. 

Instead his clothes were cut away 

And they took turns with him, all day. 

"We knew you'd take it up the ass 

And in your mouth, despite your sass," 

The leader said, his third release 

Inside of Freddy yet to cease. 

"The way you fit your jeans was right, 

So we'll be keeping you all night, 

Until we're done, then you will know 

We own you and won't let you go." 

This made no sense at all. The lad 

Did not know what he had done bad 

To make them hurt him. "Well, you're gay," 

One man said, "and that's why you'll stay." 

"Then so are you," our boy cried back. 

That only led them to attack 

Him harder. "Don't say we are that," 

The leader snarled. "No more chitchat. 

Since you're the one who's fucked, not us. 

So there is nothing to discuss. 

We'll keep you. Use you till we're done. 

And then we'll find another one 

Who's just like you to fuck around.” 

Then put me six feet underground? 

Is what came to Freddy’s mind. 

With two more gay men lost in kind? 

No fucking way, our Freddy thought. 

No man will treat me like I'm bought 

To be used and then merely trashed. 

I will escape. Get your lives crashed 

To stop your evil ways and means, 

And show you nothing's as it seems.

For six weeks Freddy played their boy, 

And he made sure to bring them joy 

Despite his hatred of the group. 

Till one fine night he got the scoop. 

Sometime soon he would leave this earth 

In spirit. But he had no dearth 

Of plans to get away from them 

And not surrender to their whim. 

He’d never wasted any time, 

So knowing this, he became prime. 

First, break the chain around his leg.

He’d made sure every night to beg 

Them to remove it. They would shrug 

And leave him, like he was a bug. 

But while he feigned to be so weak 

From their abuse, the little sneak 

Was working at the padlock’s clasp 

To lessen the strength of its grasp 

While doing all he could to keep 

Them wanting him. He’d cry and weep, 

Which made them laugh in ways so cruel. 

They didn’t understand the fool 

Was them. Because early one morn 

The padlock opened. Hope was born. 

So he would suffer one more rape 

Then find the best time to escape. 

That day they came, the three prepared 

To end him, but then Freddy dared 

To howl and cower...then recover 

To kick one back into another. 

Ripped the chain off, to their shock 

And beat the last one. No more talk. 

He bolted upstairs to the door. 

Burst through into a great downpour 

Of rain to cleanse him. No more kept. 

And mere days later, those men wept 

Before the courts. He told the tale 

And all of them went straight to jail. 

Then Freddy said, "I'll write a book 

And in it you can have a look 

At all the evil done to me 

Because I'm gay...but now I’m free."