Best Deathchristmas Poems


Christmas Without You

Our love was so true I don't know how I have made it without you. 
Now Christmas is here which makes it another year, Baby I miss you. 
I know you are in a better place, But at Christmas I just lose my faith. 
Now happiness is gone away and sadness took its place. 
Just watching the children play, remind me how you use to say, that Christmas is the 
best day. 
Since the day you pass away Christmas for me has been the saddest day. 
Baby I know that I will be with you one day, just give me faith.
This loneliness is breaking my heart, and it’s been two Christmas we have been apart.
© M. Alejo  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member The Simmons' Personas "of Mind's Darkness"

“Ronald Gene Simmons” death’s synonymous,
   This methodic demon murdered the lot!
      The executioner, autonomous,
        Not a family member aware of plot!     
Grandchildren’s redemption, a rain barrel!
  Murdered daughter, mother of his daughter,
    Drowned in  holy times of Christmas carol,
      Autonomous plot, demonic slaughter. 
Personas demonic beseeches void,
  Murderous demons of the void darkness,
    Illusion’s personas of minds deployed,
      Lost deranged souls without love, are artless. 
This deranged soul, mind illusion’s manure,
  Dumped bodies in cesspit, then had a beer!!!

For: Tragedy is More Enjoyable Than Comedy
In Honor of; Dr Ram Mehta

Ronald Gene Simmons #131 
Ronald Gene Simmons killed 14 members of his extended family in Russellville, Ark., over a 
course of three days at Christmas 1987. Between the murders he drank beer and watched TV!
www.clarkprosecutor.org/html/death/US/simmons131.htm 
Summary: 
Ronald Gene Simmons was a retired Air Force Sergeant. Over the Christmas holidays in 1987, 
he methodically executed 14 members of his family: 6 daughters, 3 sons, 2 grandsons, 1 son-
in-law, 1 daughter-in-law and his wife. (One of his daughters was also his granddaughter)
Two days later, he went into town and killed two others. Waived all appeals.

Santa Claws

You think you'll see his shadow 
You think you'll be able to hear 
Instead he'll kill you silently 
There's no need to leave presents this year. 

He loves the taste of flesh and blood
He craves it more and more 
He likes to collect the little children 
To eat on Christmas morn'

So just remember this year
When your eating on Christmas day 
Santa will be feasting 
The children no longer play.


Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace