Johnny was a boy so young,
With heart and head to match.
And the day that high school was done,
A young girl, he decided to snatch.

Not much younger than he,
Though much prettier and kind.
She was nimble and skinny as could be,
But, most certainly not hard to find.

Her pleated skirt kissed the breeze,
While the breeze kissed her thighs.
She took a fall, fell to her knees,
Johnny snatched her up with pride.

She thrashed and kicked and screamed and howled,
Though Johnny did not care.
She was taken to a room, so foul,
With dusty windows and stale air.

Weeks go by, and the news reports,
“Girl, of sixteen found...”
The world tuned in to listen more,
“In 5 counties, beneath the ground.”

Though her family wept and cried,
Johnny kept his grin.
In his success, he took great pride,
And would not forget his sins.

Little Johnny was often bored,
His only plaything, knives.
His body became bloodied and sore,
And now, he thought was time.

He scoped the state, his plot in play,
And remembered how she screamed.
Even on this cold, wet day,
The sweat from his brow streamed.

Johnny lost his interest,
He looked far and wide.
He insisted that he did his best,
But instead, he sat and cried.

Weeks go by, the news reports,
“Boy of eighteen found...”
The world tuned in to listen more,
“Hanged 5 feet above the ground.”