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Poem
The essence was in the V
But I liked gambling with the E
So I tore open my can of milk
And gulped down litres of filth
It was a Monday morning you all
And they had just brought in another sub victim, too frail
Eyes and mouth glued shut
A serial killer was on the run
And here I was with a can of milk 
Drinking to nothing else but fun


Tuesday was a mass of heavy fog
My wife woke up a disgraced lady of the rogue
Threw triple shades of red upon my case
Called me weak and fled the house
I had to do the cleaning, the cooking
Turned up the volume but what was playing, Putin?
Raced to work barefoot
But all the workspaces had turned to soot
I slumped down into my invisible chair
Face in hand, head between the legs
I was devastated
Just like old pregnant Diva had stated
There was a serial killer on the run
And here I was wanting nothing else but rum


Wednesday I woke up in a shallow grave
Besides me lay a lady her face a mask of a forbidden wave
Like usual eyes and mouth glued shut, brave
I sighed once, twice and called the ambulance
Thoroughly surprised at my lack of vengeance
They brought me in for questioning
I couldn't answer a thing, insanity was fast fastening
They declared me a suspect, locked me up in a cell
And i thought of laying back on a hot seat with popcorn
Like WWE I craved hell in a cell
But I couldn't my life was on standstill
There was a serial killer on the run
And all I wanted was to become a nun


Thursday was the real deal
Bashed by  inmates and led a jailbreak reel
I had to declare the war and end it
This was supposed to be the final strand, bend it
So I stalled out into the darkness and drew out my sword
And came face to face with myself ,no word
The rush of realisation went through me but I let the depth of death say it
I was the serial killer on the run
And I was already fresh meat on the pan
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