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Serial Killer…

Serial Killer…

I Killed you first of all,

at least I think I did.

There was that chap in a hat,

I bludgeoned in an alleyway.

But I’m sure he survives,

in a vegetative state.


I feel guilty about that one,

but not at all about you.

He didn’t deserve his fate,

shouldn’t have done what I did.

No need to use such violence,

I only wanted his hat.


With you, no such qualms,

I enjoyed slitting your throat.

You certainly had it coming,

staring at me like that.

I suppose I should offer thanks,

helping to itch a big scratch.


Once I was off and running,

I killed with a some aplomb.

Two by the following week,

Eleven by the Fourth of July.

I was becoming quite prolific,

Once doing three in a day.


I’d never have been caught,

if I not for a greater prize.

The man in the big White House,

I probably shouldn’t have killed.

Although it was really nothing personal,

It didn’t go down too well.


So I’m here on death row,

killing time just isn’t the same.

My last meal has been ordered,

fried chicken, ice cream and fries.

I’m due in the chair this Friday,

but plan to escape before then.


My career as a killer,

A long way from being done.

To stack on up the numbers,

the aim of the slaughtering game.

I’m a murderer on a mission,

a death train coming to town.

This post first appeared on Phill Slater, please read the originial post: here

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Serial Killer…


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