The killer lurks around,
Not making but a sound,
He comes in the yard,
The people sleeping like logs,
His vision slightly fogs,
Soon the scream of sadness comes as a dying cry for help,
But none will come.
The child dies in a pool of blood!
The strangled cry will emerge from tiny lips,
Soon the killer's reason tips,
He has only anger
Towards a world that left him out to dry,
So now a useless child must die!
He brandishes a knife,
Soon to take away a life,
And put a child in eternal sleep.
So now forward comes the creep,
Soon parents will start to weep,
His hand flashes forward,
It cuts cleanly through,
With the texture of a chunky stew,
Then the scream comes,
But only in his head,
The child will never scream again because he is dead.
The killer leaves the house,
Not a soul around,
He leaves the yard with but a sound.
The killer finds another house.
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