My chocolate is renowned the world over,
Valentine’s Day is kind to my economy.
My quaint cobbled streets and historic chapels,
Attract many a city breaker and summer tourist.
My fictional character, created by an English woman,
Is particularly popular with mystery readers and ITV viewers.
Yet the pretty lace curtains twitch in the neighbourhood,
My citizens are no longer as content as they once were.
For Marc Dutroux and certain people of religious persuasion have not been kind to me.
For them my legendary chocolate was a means to an end.
For them the next generation – my precious children – were but playthings.
To be toyed with and mutilated and sullied,
And, in time, cast aside when their novelty and eyes had dulled.