deepundergroundpoetry.com
My Masterpiece
I'm sorry mom, but I killed a man.
His daughter and the newborn that he held in his hands.
I'm so sorry because you raised me well, but there's a demon inside and I thought that I should tell.
I found pleasure in their weeps and shrieking cries.
I smiled softly as the tears rolled down from their eyes.
Not sure what came over me, but I loved the adrenaline rush.
It infiltrated my warm heart more and more as they made a fuss.
I told them hush, hush, it's for the best.
While I smothered the baby and stuck the knife in his chest.
I felt an absence, so I contemplated.
On how to create a masterpiece of death, so that the media wouldn't be devastated.
I smeared the blood on the wall and drew a smiley face.
I severed the man's arm and stuck it in the fire place.
I figured that was a good place to start.
It was a brief sketch to the full work of art.
I heard near silent cries, the man was still grasping for life.
I should have made those incisions with a sharper knife.
I laid the dead child beside him to see his reaction.
Then I stabbed him again, while he focused on the distraction.
He's a brave soldier because he didn't die easily.
Honestly, it's sad his demise couldn't come peacefully.
I bet his daughter would have been proud.
She would have survived, if she didn't play her music so loud.
I crept up the stairs and peeked inside the room.
She was young and teenaged, around sixteen I assumed.
She didn't even scream, well that was until she saw me.
And the blood on my hands, so she tried to brawl me.
Tough girl, I'll admit, she sure put up a fight.
But she swung with her left, I dodged and struck her with a right.
She fell to the ground, I raised my hands in victory.
Then I paused and realized there was no prize meant for me.
So I dragged the body downstairs and laid her beside her family.
I bet this wasn't the horrid day they planned to see.
Oh well, I slit a vein and let the blood spew out.
I decided to tie her to a chair, so she wouldn't move about.
I got bored and started to tear the infant from limb to limb.
Night began to fall, the light outside of the window looked dim.
I needed to speed up the process, if I wanted there to be progress.
I nailed each limb to the wall and for the head, I let it rest.
On the kitchen counter, my art piece was starting to come alive.
The daughter's blood made a pool so deep, that I could take a dive.
Two down, only him left to go.
I decided to hang his body from the ceiling, so he could be the centerpiece of the show.
I washed my hands and took pictures, this belonged in a gallery.
To be gazed upon by millions, just the thought of it flattered me.
Blame the overwhelming aggression or adolescent depression.
Don't think too much about it, time never endures regression.
So mom when you come home tonight.
Please try not to have such a fright.
Published 23rd Oct 2015
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23rd Oct 2015 7:20pm
23rd Oct 2015 11:06pm
reminds me of the beginning of the old Cypress Hill song......great evil story.....I like that you did not hold back on the evilness nor the controversy. Like a horror movie.......
