PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

This is the day the Lord has made

Let me rejoice and grab my spade.

Dig your grave, maybe I’ll live after I stole life.

        I’ll begin to feel after I took a life.

Thrust it through your forehead

Keep at it until your half-past dead.

        It had been awhile since Quinn had written.  She rarely wrote over Christmas Break but this was boggling around her head after she sang a similar hymn.  Her Mother had dragged her to church this Christmas Eve.  A seasonal Christian.  After the service she wrote it down a few times and it evolved each time.  During the ride home it was a quiet stretch of road and Quinn had been driving.  It was quiet until Quinn saw a bullet whiz by her Mothers face and graze the driver that left a burn mark on her chin.

Quinn was not affected because she was a Masochist.  Her Mother was freaked out.  They had been victims of a hate crime. Stepping out of the car Quinn told her Mother to stay there.

        As she approached the Spic that held the nine-Millimeter he pulled out a small knife.

“Take another step and I’ll shank you Monkey!” The Spic warned her.

Quinn took no heed to the warning.  She continued on her quest of vengeance.  The Spic ran towards her and cut into her torso near her stomach.

Reaching for his hand she pulled the knife out and threw it across the yard.  A hard blow to her face came down along with more blood.  By her laid a shovel.  She picked it up and beat the Spic with the spade on his head.  One strike and he was through.

Standing over him she pulled out a knife of her own and unzipped his pants.  “No nigger… please, no, I’m sorry.”  He managed to string together while he reached into his back pocket and offered his wallet.  Remuneration of money never pays the price of vengeance.  Quinn then pulled his penis out and in one motion cut it off.  Screams of agony came from the man.  “Look at you a Spic without a dick!” chuckled Quinn.

Looking around she saw a Drill Box.  Quinn staggerdly walked towards the tool.  Looking inside she took out a three-inch bit and assembled the drill.  “WHAT MORE DO YOUR WANT?” screamed the Mexican as she revved the drill's motor as she walked towards him staring into his eyes.  When she came close enough to his body she kneeled before him.  Next she put the drill onto his forehead and began drilling.  The bone was the hardest to get through but the mess was the worst.  Once through she jabbed the penis into the hole and exclaimed: Dickhead do as you wish to me but never touch my Mother!