Dismembered flies
on his bookshelf
Cremated ladybugs
on the floor
Homemade napalm in
his toy chest
Bloodstained thumbtacks
‘neath the door
The target
practice is potsherd
Now the assassin
lies in wait
With a slingshot
aimed at a songbird
That is about to
meet its fate
He tattooed his face with war paint
He grew up bigger
than his prey
Morality was no
restraint
And he locked his
conscience away
He bare-knuckle
brawled in the kitchen
And beat you to
show that he can
Now three of his
teeth are missing
But that makes him
more of a “man”
His head was an
echo chamber
He was overwhelmed
by silence
And fears too
painful to remember
So he fought it
all back violence
Voices overflowed
his mind
His own thoughts
became a cage
His manic hatred
made him blind
His soul was
consumed with rage
He went back to
his childhood home
And struck match
against his foot
He cast it into
the gaping tomb
And reduced the
place to soot
He burned away the
memories
His broken past
was lost
He conquered all
his enemies
But at what
terrible cost?
Can a killer be
forgiven?
Can you repair
what you destroy?
Is he a monster
and a villain?
Or is he just a
misguided boy?
