Crimes Unidentified

Jack the Ripper

Kimberly Moore
His heart beats; you can hear it on the streets.

Blood spilled down the drain, a rat's feast.

Next trophy is "you", that he is chasing.

Another one on his list as he licks his lips.

Running faster, trying to escape his prison.

Slipping and trips breaking your neck.

Instant death saved by the bell, a quick trip to heaven.

His murderous hands shaking, and waiting to torture again.

He prowls the streets watching for another prized victim.

Published by Kimberly Moore

Hello and Welcome! My name is Kimberly. I've been a writer since the seventh grade. My passions include poetry, short stories, children's books, suspence novels, and song writing.  View profile

6 Comments

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  • pamela smith3/10/2011

    Didn't expect that. Great work!

  • Kitty Stevens1/21/2011

    That was creepy.

  • Mike Hatz4/2/2010

    Excellent work!

  • Peggy Montgomery3/31/2010

    Creepy poem. I loved it!!!!

  • Lucky M Diaz3/18/2010

    Great flow and rhythm!

  • Darla Smith3/17/2010

    Wow! Great poem!

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