My Little Serial Murderer

By , Springfield, PA
She watches as he strolls into the cafe
sits down next to the woman
refusing a drink
holding hands and staring deep
its a serious discussion
Seconds pass
she stands up and walks out
he sits with his head in his hands
She watches the busboy grab the cup

he stands up
walks out and over to her
Grabs her hand and stares deep
placing his palm on her stomach
sometimes the other woman
outlasts the first
Love is meaningless
when confronted with duty
priorities and responsibilities
an affair
to forget
in its place
a familiar face

they'll avoid telling the story
of how they met
pre nuptials and accusations consume the marriage
a lie based on a lie
only ever ends in shame

they'll last for seven years
with fights and lasting scratches
the son listens from behind closed doors
he learns to play with matches
setting fire to his playroom
his bear goes up in flames

He'll find a cat
and break its neck
bury it under the deck
continuing his rein of terror
learning from
trial and error

from cat to dog
to human being
anguish and rage
guaranteeing
a life of murder
ever pursuing
his lack of caution
will be his undoing

On the news his count climbs higher
he's built a bloody body empire
Nights are filled
with worry and fear
mothers hide their children
cover their ears

He's found on the 10th of October
Cowering behind a wall of bones
forty-five years of blood and guts
the room reverberates with the moans
of his victims

Found not guilty
on grounds of insanity
his legacy forgotten
in the minds of the public
he had a wife
who had a son
who had a cat
whose neck he snapped
following in his fathers foot steps





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