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Serial Killers

Poetry By: Juneau


Submitted:Aug 13, 2012    Reads: 17    Comments: 5    Likes: 3   

Dawn is near as I make a coat
After I ripped and slashed your throat

It brings me joy, I will not lie,
to drink the blood, off your thigh.

Cry for help, scream and bite,
most the fun is in the fight.

To the basement I drag the body
making coats, my favourite hobby.

Daily office life is such a bore,
so I stalk the night to find a whore.

No remorse when I see her pain.
Unless I'm caught I'll kill again.

Making coats, my favourite hobby.
After which, I eat the body.


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