Serial Killer Poems

Confession of a Serial Killer

they wheeled me in like a busted fridge
metal bolts, the stink of bleach
my hands were calm for once—
you'd think I'd scream,
but I'd already done all my screaming.

a priest mumbled junk at me—
I asked for a cigarette,
he gave me god instead.

the guards were kids
shaking like leaves
they strapped me tight
like I was gonna run.

I looked at the

Serial Killer

they don’t walk like the rest of us—
there’s a rhythm, yes, but it’s off-beat,
like jazz played in a padded cell.

it starts early—when the dog barked too loud
and nobody hugged them after.
the world lit its fuse,
and turned the other way.

they grow quiet in the corners of rooms,
watching how the meat falls off the bone,
how people talk

Childhood Trauma That Creates a Serial Killer

A bedroom door that never locked,
Footsteps heavy like thunderclocks,
Mother's wine glass, cracked and red,
Words that bruised more than fists ever did.

A closet full of whispered screams,
Apologies lost in fevered dreams,
Father's belt, a sermon preached,
Love, a language never reached.

A dog buried in silence deep,
Secrets traded instead of sleep,
Schoolyard eyes like hunting knives,
Laughter echoing butchered lives.

The smell

Buddha and the serial killer

.
                   “Who is
                 Wandering
                Over There?

Memoirs of a Serial Killer

There's always a whisper of madness, 
playing in my brain as I struggle to get 
loose from it's refrain and the constant 
pounding me to comply makes me feel 
quite insane.

Disaster brewing behind blue eyes
bits of chaos that won't be denied. 
They tell me the choice is completely
mine but they don't see or feel how
I'm

Serial Killer

The great and never ending
Always pretending
To be that big f@@k of a presence
His essence too shallow
His steps too big
There's no rhythm
Just sweat
And odor

The mindless excursion
From thoughts of twisted perversion
The path is always crooked
The night is always deep
Dark and slippery
His stomach empty
He lurks…

Waiting

Broken jagged teeth
 Ripped flesh and bone
Traces of life
Gone
Gone
Gone

Have You Seen This Serial Killer

A figure haunting, darkness is revealed.
The serial killer roams the silent night,
In search of prey, a deadly, chilling sight.

A mask of normalcy, a facade so clever,
Camouflaging evil, deceiving forever.
A predator lurking, devoid of remorse,
Leaving behind a trail, a ghastly discourse.

Their eyes, a void, devoid of empathy,
No mercy, no conscience, a grim symphony.
They prey upon innocence,

Serial Killer

1.He was a Scottish-Canadian medical doctor 
and serial killer who poisoned his victims.
2.He murdered up to ten people in three countries.
3.He is targeting mostly lower-class women,
prostitutes and pregnant women seeking abortions. 
4.He was convicted and sentenced to death,and was 
hanged on 15 November 1892.
Note.Prostitutes are also women and women are not
aliens,they are our mothers sisters

A Serial Killer

A doctor ordained to bring people from death to life
Turning into an assassin sending them from life to death
Lopsided was his brain, a sure psychopath
Dr. Harold Shipman committed crime after crime in stealth

None suspected him of his evil designs
And he continued his sinister escapade for long.
Did violence rage in his heart as a youth?
Or did

Worse Than Any Serial Killer

The man who starts a war is playing with fire
He is no better than a killer for hire
His only purpose is to destroy anyone who gets in his way
By Murdering more and more people with each passing day
A massacre to acquire a filthy desire

Serial Killer

His plan was diabolical
Obsessed with the details
He had constructed it for years
When he acted upon the impulses
the effect was short-lived
He needed another fix
and another and another and another
He lost count of his victims
More concerned about honing his plan
for the next one

Most Prolific Serial Killer

Silently, the serial killer
crept in, keeping to the side,
undetectable.  Hanging out
day after day, watching,
learning the habits,
figuring the timing to be just
right.  Too late, others would
come to save her, too late they
would see the pattern that
was there all along, hiding.
Silently, the serial killer
made a move, over bone
and marrow, flesh and
fat, he kept at it,

Do You Think Serial Killer Arsonists

no not serial killers that only kill arsonists
but serial killers who kill with fire
do you think they would
want buried
or
Take your time
see what i cremated

Stepping Stone

My first test, easy like taking toys from a spoilt brat, now I know I can take what I want without issue.
Now time to up the anti, push hard or go home crying
I scour my audience reading each one like an open book, searching for my chosen one. 
I pick them out, start by studying

My Serial Killer Name

.....might have been the Did not see the other identical twin
it..............................the  other one.
no love would have this heart
Always thought i would make a good
wait good is that right word anyway
good serial killer
you know
unusual m.o.
not the skin boiling in a pan one
or the skin wearers
Have a point to the murders
you know somehow part of the

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