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The Pig Butcher
The Pig Butcher
Pickton pulled the trigger.
finished her off.
Her crime was bigger,
Left in a trough.
Squeals of delight,
Grinding her down,
Hidden from sight,
Miles from town.
Ribbons of flesh,
entrails, sinew and bone
Minced through mesh,
Can’t hear her moan.
Empty roads wet with rain,
Deserted, discarded dead.
Silence screams p...
Wednesday 7th October 2020 6:46 pm
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