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His Legacy, Jack

Updated on November 9, 2013

Jack the Ripper


The night gave off a tinkling sound,

odd footprints on the ground,

the light was dimmer,

and through that glimmer

a shadow emerged,

and the darkness remained fresh,

haggard shoulders, ragged clothing,

rotting flesh,

dried blood on his shirt,

fingernails caked with dirt,

dark eyes, with so much fear,

terror had given in

only to despair,

he’d envision his face

in their eyes,

infusion with confusion,

as he murdered beneath

the nighttime skies,

his fury grows,

and his sickness rose,

behind the harm,

he displayed some charm,

he walked by the ladies,

and he tipped his hat,

somehow there was a disturbing

comfort in that,

roaming the nights like a vampire,

and then he would attack,

his legacy, Jack.

© 2011 Frank Atanacio


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    • To Start Again profile image

      Selina Kyle 6 years ago

      Excellent! Gave me chills--well done!

    • Frank Atanacio profile image

      Frank Atanacio 3 years ago from Shelton

      thank you for reading To Start Again :) Frank

    • FlourishAnyway profile image

      FlourishAnyway 3 years ago from USA

      What a disturbing soul, Jack. Makes you wonder how he got that way. You capture him well.

    • Frank Atanacio profile image

      Frank Atanacio 3 years ago from Shelton

      again thank you so much Flourish

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