Primrose Rose

Silently, they stopped to stare,
At the freak with raven hair,
His eyes rings of Dante black,
Angry looks burnt through his back.
Strange black clothes flapped in the air.
Flying back to darkened lair.
Primrose Close, closed its eyes,
Abnormals were despised.
Close people; pillars of good,
Bedrock, of their neighbourhood.
They must be rid of this thing,
It was either Close or Him…

Nice rose woman grew flowers,
Tending garden for hours,
Poor old woman left alone,
Husband ran away from home;
Roses blossomed pink and red.
Left no trace where husband bled…
City Banker, number One,
Works in cat shelter for fun.
Brings home strays of the City.
Model of care and pity.
Fur coats are her only vice,
Never wears the same one twice...

Number four is Dr. Pace
White coat and a kindly face.
Some patients give him pleasure
He enjoys them at leisure.
Watching limbs lying twitching.
In glass jars in his kitchen…
Hidden in the smallest nook.
Shy, school teacher ticks his book.
Enslaved with education
Spends evenings on Chat Nation
Befriends lonely teenage girls,
Loves the ones with Mommys’ curls…

Freak flew home, the Close stood still.
Silent curses of ill will.
Hidden in his bedroom lair,
No one saw his hungry stare.
White collars bored him to tears.
Blank people with stagnant fears.
The loathing ripped through his heart.
Close and him were far apart.
They would never feel his need,
Watching Normals’ fear and bleed.
Deathly pale and feeling ill.
Slunk out silently to kill...