Don Mann: Focusing on my Craft

Wednesday, Oct. 29, 2003 - 2:46 a.m.

There was once a man who lived all alone

In a house on top of a hill

The children would play in a field nearby

He'd yell "Shut up or you'll all be killed!"

~~

They didn't listen to the man at all

They shouted and screamed and played

Unfortunately he kept his promises to all

And dealt justice with a twelve inch blade

~~

He stalked down the hill dressed all in black

His blade shimmered, held tight in his hand

The children still laughing were oblivious to him

Oblivious to his evil plan

~~

He tore through the flesh with his gleaming knife

Stabbed at the youths with a spear

He chased down those who thought they could escape

He filled all their faces with fear

~~

When the deed was done there was gore all around

He looked to make sure no one had seen it

Then smiled satisfied with the havok he'd wrought

He was also relieved he didn't have to clean it

~~

Tommy's liver was lying underneath the slide

Brenda's scalped hair by the jungle gym

Little Jimmy's eyes were ripped out of his head

and Jenny's corpse was missing its skin

~~

Billy's peeled face was atop the swinging tire

Blood filled the tiny sand box

A hole had been carved into Tina's little head

Her brains replaced with sand and rocks

~~

Those who ran away couldn't escape

From death which came much too quick

Before they knew it the steel met flesh

or they were skewered with a pointed stick

~~

He wrapped the survivors up in a sack

and tied it with a length of twine

He smiled to himself and said aloud

"Now you little brats are mine."

~~

He marched his way up the mighty hill

Prepared to make good what he'd sworn

He took the children deep into his house

and demonstrated to them the depth of his scorn

~~

Finally the parents realized how quiet it was

and also that the kiddies were gone

They walked to the playground and saw the cause;

Their childrens' organs spread all over the lawn

~~

The parents they followed the trail of blood

To find the missing children from their flock

Until the front door of the mansion came before them

The town mayor gave it a ferocious knock

~~

"Let us in, you murderous devil!"

The Mayor said in his strongest yell

The only thing is, you can cry out all you want

When you're knocking on the gates of Hell

~~

The doors were flung open and the folk poured in

Their hearts full of anger and hate

They tore the entire place apart piece by piece

But alas, for the children it was too late

~~

Those unruly children whom he took back to his home

That terrible mansion on the hill

He pinned them all to the wall of his basement

With railroad spikes to keep them still

~~

The townsfolk screamed and drew back in terror

At the horrifying image set before them

The mothers of the children were overwhelmed with sadness

Melancholy feelings; they couldn't endure them

~~

Despite their best efforts and hardest of labors

All their attempts were in vain

The madman from atop the hill had escaped

To another town, waiting to strike again.

Delve Into The Past - Onward Into The Future