I am none too sure when it all began,
But l was a young killer it has to be said,
Now as l have aged into an older man,
The cravings are still deep within my head,
It used to be way back in those days,
Maybe one or two a week, no more,
But when the urge cut in, l swayed,
And then from two it went to four!
I know, what a terrible thing to confess,
But if l did not murder in the morning,
The rest of the day was just a mess,
But if l gave in to it, l was laughing!
Soon, l simply could not contain myself,
I murdered every day of the given week,
It was all too easy, feelings l couldn’t shelve,
Especially as l had mastered a unique technique,
I mean, who can resist the cravings when present?
Doesn’t really matter where you are,
They simply strike, most understand the sentiment,
It’s not unusual, freaky or even bizarre,
All of us, man, woman and child,
Have the same dependency upon the emotion,
Albeit, some are more distant even mild,
Than others, who cannot resist and simply weaken!
That was me, if l saw the opportunity to murder,
I took it, and to hell with the consequences!
Soon l was like a stalker,
And could no longer hide the pretence,
Of simply being in the kitchen, just for the sake,
And my parents begged me to ease up,
Saying that if l indulged too often, it was a mistake,
But l was like the Andrex toilet tissue to that pup,
Simply could not stop, could not resist,
The urge to murder a bowl of cereal,
Of Frosties, Coco Pops, or that Sunkissed,
Brand anything as long as it was a bowlful!
Now, l must hang my head in shame,
And confess to the brutal failure,
That ‘yes’ hands up, l am to blame
Of becoming a ruthless cereal killer!
© Rory Matier 2013