deepundergroundpoetry.com
jack the ripper
Quite late one night he sat and strode,
Slow drips of thick fell on life
Of water running, stained red.
Cross’d the street, bloody sickles
On he strode footsteps approaching.
Walking faster than wind
The woman sat in the corner
The ripper neared his find.
Windows latch, Click! The Ripper’s here!
Creak goes the door… Ripper!
Jack, why? She croaks…slice goes the knife!
Bloodied ladies slipper.
Slow drips of thick fell on life
Of water running, stained red.
Cross’d the street, bloody sickles
On he strode footsteps approaching.
Walking faster than wind
The woman sat in the corner
The ripper neared his find.
Windows latch, Click! The Ripper’s here!
Creak goes the door… Ripper!
Jack, why? She croaks…slice goes the knife!
Bloodied ladies slipper.
Published 18th Dec 2012
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18th Dec 2012 4:47pm
19th Dec 2012 1:27am
