I Like to Play

Played with many things, laying in my crib.
Twirling plastic stars, little cars, even string,
All would make me giggle and coo.
Of course there is more to playing,
As I grew.

There was an early phase where I played with parts of my body.
To pull, dig, and explore, but soon that started to bore me.
What else was a young boy to do?

Watching my mother slice meat,
I watched for hours sitting beneath her feet,
Playing with toy soldiers, plastic bayonets and dreams.

When I was tall enough to reach, I peeked into the drawer.
All shiny and sharp were those knives, hidden in the dark.
As soon as I grabbed one, it was the beginning, a start.

No one noticed, except for me, how lots of neighbors pets went missing.
Fluffy the cat, and Bobo the dog, even the burping of frogs were stilled in the night,
Yet as I said, it was a beginning.

Going through the phase of changing voices and hair,
Girls at school took on a new meaning.
And those taunting boys who made fun of my looks, and tortured my way of thinking, made me think of new things.

Soon talk of the town was about teenage youth gone missing.
Let society worry about such trivial things, as I sit sharpening my collection of knives.
I've grown now, into a killer, with much experience in my evil heart.
If you ever want to change your life,
Come visit and play with me.

Robin B. Lipinski claims to be addicted to writing. It helps that his good dreams are other people's nightmares. There is not much to know about him other than he shares this planet with you and others.

Find more by Robin B. Lipinski in the Author Index.

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