Good evening everyone and welcome again and again and again to another Friday Night Poetry Corner. This week is a poem called “The Crucifix Killer” by a thoughtful poet who goes by the name of writerinretrospect. Please read this and visit this writer’s page when you get a chance.
Eight weeks, eight kills,
Each a twisted crucifixion:
Upside down, on Sunday found;
A killer with a mission.
He took them each on Friday,
Sometime in the night.
Fearful, a decree was made
To stay in when there’s no light.
But teenagers will always be
Victims of their own bravado.
In a clearing in the woods:
Bonfire, peer and bottle.
Christine never was a party girl;
But she came for friends who were.
Tommy handed her a drink that night…
All the rest’s a blur.
She remembers running,
Tears streaming down her face —
Straight into a man,
Who held her for a space;
Then he looked her in the eyes
And she realized who he was.
She remembers trying to scream,
But all the rest is fuzz.
She wakes up in a tiny room,
Tied up to a chair;
Another opposite of her:
That same man sitting there.
He…
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