Memoirs of a massmurderer – a poem

I care about the group,

we all have our problems.

My problem is nobody gives a fuck about me.

The group is a ferocious pack.

And my friends are to far away to help me.

So I retreat in my shell like a snail.

In life you have to be a killer to be a winner.

Nobody remembers who came in second.

I remember sitting on that bench,

reminiscing

about how I poisoned them all.

Some cyanide in the can of coffee,

blue heads,

foam on their lips,

disbelief in their eyes.

Swell days and much more to come.

They call me a massmurderer,

that’s not the name on my ID.

It’s Ernest McGee.

Want a coffin,

come with me.

I am an undertaker now,

I create my own customers.

Hey, you don’t like the story?

Let’s put a smile on that face. Here you have some razorblades.

The gun won’t go off if you chew.

A fuck it, i am tired of your company,

rest in pieces, you!

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