Thread: Revenge
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Old 02-05-05, 11:51 AM   #1
M.C. Streak
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Posts: 383
From: Rhode Island, USA
Revenge

IP:

Impulsive thoughts crawl through my mind, got my fingers clasped around the machete/
Seeking for vengeance, I leave the crib as soon as I'm ready/
Outside, approaching my ride, gears on drive once I step into the chevy/
Memories come back to me, my hands tremble but I manage to keep myself steady/
In search of my enemy's crib, I try my hardest to recall the directions/
Is it Holiday Drive? Raymond...? o yea it's on that first intersection/
Fire enters my eyes and spreads like a disease, now the revenge is in session/
Surely, It's my turn to end the life of whom he gives affection/
The day he murdered my kids was horrible, I haven't slept since the day it occured/
Shot my first child, stabbed the second and hung the third/
The pain he caused me no man can or will ever be able to describe it in words/
I can just remember giving cuts to my body and burying my face in the dirt/
This time it's his dreams I disturb/ I arrive at his house and light some green on the curb/
Close to the home, I peek in the window, notice a kid no older than five deep in his slumber/
As quick as possible, I shatter the glass, without a doubt I've awaken the youngster/
The child opens his eyes wide, jaw drops but not a single word he can utter/
As I pull out the machete, I hear the words "please don't" in an innocent voice but I can't resist/
It's the moment I've been waiting for, all these years this kid has been on my hit list/
So without hesitation, I plunge the weapon straight into his throat, blood oozes out/
Feeling no pain but still shocked by the situation, I have no choice but to bounce/
Straight out the window, I rush to the car, will I make it home? For some reason I have doubts/
A few minutes on the road, I notice lights, red and blue, The Feds? How did they figure?/
I try to leave the scene, speed's 120, police car crashes in front, the whole windshields in slivers/
In haste they surround me, slithering out I hear in a loud voice, "put 'em up, your way out of line"/
Instead, I grab the machete, still in my pocket, stabbed myself in the gut multiple times/
Fell to the concrete throwing up blood, life washing away , can't remember anything elegant/
It's too bad it has to end this way, from there the rest of the tale is pure evidence/
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