George...
By Daniel R
Published 22 September 2017
Death is a warm thing,
Not cold as they say,
Your neck he will wring,
As he takes your life away,
Your blood is warm,
Not hot, nor cold,
In the heart of the storm,
As it was foretold,
He killed his last family,
Now it’s time for yours,
For he is an anomaly,
And his name is George…