Shotgun wedding

I stand here with a shotgun pointed at my head.

If I don't marry this man's daughter, I'm as good as dead.

His daughter is pregnant and somehow he thinks I'm the dad.

I've tried to tell him that I'm not but he won't listen because he's so mad.



He's just itching to pull the trigger because he's really pissed.

I have no choice but to say I do but later I'll get out of this.

When he goes to sleep tonight, I'm going to hotwire his car.

I'm going to drive to the nearest police station and have him put behind bars.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem

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