Abused
Battered and beaten beyond recognition
Helpless and weak laying in the kitchen
Scared what will be next is not known
Curled up in a ball frightened and alone
Now picked up tossed and turned about
Using there hands now viciously laid out
Their bodies now placed on a sheet
Dieing a slow death under the ovens heat
They lay lifeless as for them it was to late
Eight little ginger bread men had met their fate
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