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My Name is Jack

My name is Jack, I’m a prowler,
I like to prowl the streets of Whitechapel,
Looking for whores.
No one knows,
Who I am.
They try to get me,
But all their efforts are in vain.
I am the elusive one.
I am the Devil’s son.
I leave a trail to be followed,
Pieces of meat to be swallowed.
I even wrote a letter to the boss,
In red ink to represent the blood,
Of my victims, all whores,
And all of them got what they deserved.
Mary Ann Nichols was first to go,
Early Friday morning, in Bucks Row.
I left two slashes on her throat,
And her abdomen I tore,
Until she breathed no more.
Elated, my work done,
I went home.
Annie Chapman was the next I killed,
In Hanbury Street, Spitalfields,
As with Nichols, I left two cuts,
And opened up her abdomen,
Only this time I took the uterus.
Oh the sweet joy that brung.…

May 4th, 2010 by Caretaker