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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Greetings yet again,

 

This is probably the longest poem I have ever written. I spent two days on this one. It's a song about a man, scorned by all, who gets pissed off and decides to teach life a lesson. The poem is heavily influenced by Nick Cave and his album "Murder Ballads". It has ties in particular to the song "The Curse of Milhaven". As such, the grim contents of the song are to be viewed humoristically morbid rather than tastelessly gory. :-D

 

Oh, and...I've written 2 or 3 pieces since I got the Weenie Award for never posting anything, so I thought I'd try to poke the almighty leaders of The Pen and ask them if this will do. Thanks in advance.

 

I hope you can work your way through it and can enjoy its casual approach to the ending of life. That's what I aimed for with this piece anyway. :P

 

The Crimson Creak

 

This one’s about Willy

A man from Chasm; that’s a town

It’s where they defined “Hillbilly”

And even the crows turn around

 

Small but full of people

Yet completely devoid of life

Most mentally feeble

Fueled only by petty strife

 

His face was molded “real fine”

By a thousand fishing hooks

Willy was indeed last in the line

When God handed out good looks

 

So this poor guy, twisted by fate

In any way, shape or form

He lived subjected to everyone’s hate

Unable to follow public norm

 

You see, disabled too he was

Chained helplessly to a chair

Met spite and disdain, cause’

“He had no right to breathe their air”

 

And the rev’rent’s daughter spat on him

The type that meets challenge and bails

Connie, she’s an unruly, walking sin

Listens to Blink182 and Nine Inch Nails

 

And Mrs. Goodfield, that snobby hag

Let her dog leak on Willy’s chair

Outside where she goes though just to brag

Where she gossips and does her hair

 

And the principal looked away

When the schoolkids gave the name

And “Wheely” joined the fray

To add scorn to growing shame

 

And after then, never the same…

 

You see, one day it got too much

Like a bull with tweezers on its nuts

Wheely snapped, and as such

Returned tenfold all the cuts

 

Wheely was gone, mind too dark

And as he hurt, shall suffer town

So listen on, the future stark

What goes around, comes around

 

And luck turned about

Struck so god damn fast

As Wheely cleaned out

Down to the very last

 

It happened mostly in Main Street

They still don’t know who and how

but cops said “Done by an elite”

With no mind and hands like a plow

 

Come with me, witness the murderous streak

That’s it now, don’t be shy

So now the road’s called “Crimson Creak”

Come, and witness why:

 

So! Mrs. Goodfield, there you are

Look at you, as always, piping hot

Slender cheek, not a single scar

Can you gossip more? Maybe not

Her dog there, too, oh so sad

Clothes completely free of stains

Held on to that power line so bad

Did at least the charred remains

 

They found Connie there, too

Adding her own to the river

Rev’rent’s daughter, stabbed through

By 40 times metal sliver

With all her angsty little bands

Ha! Oh vengeance hails

At least she was holding hands

With all the Nine Inch Nails

 

They found all the kids from school

Dug down, though necks stickin’ up

Actually, I think this is kinda cool

It must’ve said “lop!”, “lop!”, lop!”

I couldn’t have done it nicer

All in a line and run o’er

Must’ve been quite the geyser

As he drove the janitor’s lawn mower

 

Police have been at it now for years

Have found only a single clue

Screams and mother’s tears

Because they had nobody to sue

 

Clue led to a secret garden

Deep between darkest tree

It’s where his heart did darken

And Satan set his body free

 

And there they found the evidence

Of the man for whom none will care

That man where blood took precedence

They only found his empty chair

 

So mind you this, should you enter Chasm

Careful who you call a freak

They’re no fun, dying spasms

 

Behave, or join the Crimson Creak

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