It's raining, it's raining.
Her blood, it is draining.
She went to bed, he smashed her head,
for nagging and complaining.

Now he's inside and oh, how he cried.
The lucky ******* should have fried.
Someone told her Mum & Dad,
I have some news, it's really bad.

She's loved to dance since she was five.
She can't do that, she's not alive.
He was a talent, web site creation,
he'll return to that when he gets probation.

Poetry by Kaydee.