Poetry and Rap Blog
A Short Collection of Creative Writing
Hunting with my pack
Sprinting at night,
Looking for a snack
We search without inhibition
And pounce with intuition
As the vulnerable keep wishing they don’t end up in our kitchen.
Our solitary, tender prey who are hidden and lurking
Are eaten by our brethren who when we see them start smirking.
Crime is immoral, but I succumbed,
Living in squalor, seeking funds,
Feral like offal and performed by scum,
Was the murderous rampage savagely done.
Consequently I sought repentance,
Instead, incidentally I caught a sentence
My moral compass and conscience drummed,
My emotions dissipated and were numbed.