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Rated: · Poetry · Death · #1760753
A poem about a killer.
I look behind me hearing the same thing

Pit pat Pit pat

I look behind me nothing

The silence is deadening

Pit pat Pit pat

The sound draws closer

I break in to a run

Pit pat Pit pat

Whatever it was matched my frantic pace

My heart thundered in my chest

Ba dum Ba dum

Screech!

He laughed manically

It’s always so easy to predict what his victims thought

He cleaned the blood off his knife

He put an x through the girls face

Its better when they run

He looked at the face of his next victim and continued through the night

Pit pat Pit pat

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