Paint

Painted faces upon a wall
A shrine to my escape
For behind the paint they cannot see
The evil that awaits
Bound and gagged I have my way
Their screams cannot be heard
My sick and twisted fantasies
True emotions becoming unfurled
I hide them in the crawl space
A trophy they’ll forever be
The smell of rotten flesh lingers
As mourning families can find no peace
Soon enough they’ll know my secret
And I’ll be locked away to rot
Until that final moment comes
Continue with this plot I must
The time has come
It is the end
The needle piercing deep
I have to leave my trophies behind
And begin infernal sleep



this poem was about the crimes of John Wayne Gacy