Christmas is upon the masses
The white flakes fall, but
Hanging
Swaying,
Dripping
Upon the crisp white
A puddle frozen of crimson red,
Baubles of the deceased
Upon a branch, eyes bleed
Baubles,
Red,
Sightless
Eyes, cracked within, as blood
Drips between the cracks,
He hangs them with tinsel rope
Glistening in the sun,
Inscribed,
"Merry Christmas"
Still fresh from the cut
Blood like a leaking tap
Drip,
Drip,
Drips
Upon pristine snow,
"He is the tinsel hanger"
He waits until the white covers
Then he begins his
Christmas list,
He thinks them naughty in is eyes
So they now sway above the ground,
There is not always one,
For what is a tree with but
One
Bauble
Hanging,
More must adorn a single tree,
"Happy Christmas"
"Died Smiling"
"Jolly Dead"
Were his trademarks upon dead flesh,
Birds perch upon limp shoulders
Pecking, upon the dead,
The last things heard,
As he records his crime,
"Please don't **** us"
"Have a heart"
"A heart"
"A HEART"
Pleeeasss....
And then there is but muffled sound
"Thump"
Lifelessness now upon the ground,
Another Bauble
For him to hang with tinsel
Above the freshly powdered ground,
He is the Tinsel hanger
He thinks the white gives purity
To his twisted deeds
Pray* that your not just left
A Christmas bauble,
Hanging,
Swaying,
Lifeless
Above freshly white snow, because
You'll not be alone this cold night,
Family will also be hanging around, tinsel  shimmering off *moonlight.

A
Surprise
is a silent killer
A death whisper in the
dark Taking away lives but
never love. Flesh and Blood but
never soul and mind  Never heart and
love as a whole. Life as we know it is a short
story . Something you should take in all it's glory.
Never take your life for granted in one moment you
could get short handed. A whole life gone in a blink of
an eye. At least I can say he was a great guy. Death is not
a forgiving friend, nor something to commend, Death is a
forever end. Claiming lives without warning. Causing a
lifetime of mourning. Changing fate, death is hate.
Something we all wish could wait. A thing
we want to stop when it's too late
When you are only left
wishing for a clean
slate

I have been in a coffin
trying to forget my sad days behind

I've been on a cliff
trying to jump my way to freedom

I have been a poet
trying to write my days away

I have been an orphan
trying to run from winter of no mercy

I have been a killer
found it soothing to drink warm blood from her veins

I have been a shooter
a fearless monster

I have been a keeper
trying to cherish the pain and void that kept me going

as i look at myself
i see my future
as i sleep
i see my dreams
as i think
i remember my past
i wonder what people would do if i were gone
i wonder what people would do or say
as i look at myself
i see me dying
as i sleep
i see my killer
as i think
i picture my dead body
as i draw
the blood drops on the floor
i wonder if people care
i wonder what people would do if i were gone