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Through Their Eyes

 Through Their Eyes

From singer to sing sing
From prayer to slayer
This is the story of Mr. Mayer

I was a good boy, sang at church in the choir 
That was when my mother killed my father
She didn't kill him, it was more of a slaughter

She beat him all the time 
I thought it would be just another
We were in the kitchen, me and my brother

I was six, my brother was four
She beat him with a shovel
Until his head was a puddle

When I grew up, I condemned and loathed women
They should be helpless like when I was child
And man.....that's what I did, and it felt wild

It was mostly women with curly brown hair
I cut their limbs off with saws and knives
Then I made sure they were awake and alive

Now they couldn't move or kill anyone
I sat them upright, side by side in a row 
I called them my shelf of useless torsos 

I had a collection of four
Before I was caught
But I managed to keep some great snapshots


July 30, 2016

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 7/31/2016 2:11:00 PM
Ewwww, you did it! A psycho's history explained and his deeds laid out in a realistic way, very true to such behavior. I think you did a great job, Tanis. CayCay
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Date: 7/30/2016 7:31:00 PM
A gruesome verse-best of luck in the contest. Light & Love Debbie
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Date: 7/30/2016 10:38:00 AM
HaHa, the last line turned my head. Good luck in the contest.
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