There are many more serial killers living outside the prison walls than inside.
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While we are being fascinated by the tales of famous serial killers and how they were brought to justice, the real serial killer goes about his business with hardly a thought to being caught.
Locked Inside Your Prison
Your love is like a prison wall
And its getting higher
I get so far and then I fall
I cant get through the wire
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Its as though Im doing time
And you wont free me
Let the punishment befit the crime
And say you need me
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Save me save me cant you see Im innocent
Turn the key that will set me free
Please let it end oh let it end
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Save me save me cant you see Im innocent
Turn the key that will set me free
Please let it end wont you let it end
Ill dig a tunnel to your heart
Let me remind you
Even gonna tear the walls apart
Until I find you
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
Oh oh oh Im locked inside your prison
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I got to read some writings by serial killers, and they got inside my head. They were quite disturbing. I read disturbing stuff about that very detached way of manipulating people to do things.
quote by Ralph Fiennes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We assume people we know can't be serial killers.
In reality, serial killers are of average intelligence.
All serial killers want to win. They choose victims they can kill successfully.
Outside of dumb luck, the number one way serial killers are caught is through the help of the public.
To try to raise a son from inside the prison walls is a very difficult thing. But I want to say to the world my son at 16 was the one who tried the most to get me out of prison.
quote by Jim Bakker
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nowadays, with much more racial and ethnic mixing, we are seeing serial killers murdering a variety of victims; whoever comes along will most likely do.
While there are many wonderful police investigators out there doing some very fine work, the majority of the time it is not brains that catches serial killers.
Most well-known serial killers have victims numbering in the dozens, have sent taunting letters to the police or have done bizarre things to the bodies.
Walls Of Red Wing
Oh, the age of the inmates
I remember quite freely:
No younger than twelve,
No older n seventeen.
Thrown in like bandits
And cast off like criminals,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
From the dirty old mess hall
You march to the brick wall,
Too weary to talk
And too tired to sing.
Oh, its all afternoon
You remember your home town,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, the gates are cast iron
And the walls are barbed wire.
Stay far from the fence
With the lectricity sting.
And its keep down your head
And stay in your number,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, its fare thee well
To the deep hollow dungeon,
Farewell to the boardwalk
That takes you to the screen.
And farewell to the minutes
They threaten you with it,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Its many a guard
That stands around smilin,
Holdin his club
Like he was a king.
Hopin to get you
Behind a wood pilin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
The night aimed shadows
Through the crossbar windows,
And the wind punched hard
To make the wall-siding sing.
Its many a night I pretended to be a-sleepin,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
As the rain rattled heavy
On the bunk-house shingles,
And the sounds in the night,
They made my ears ring.
til the keys of the guards
Clicked the tune of the morning,
Inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
Oh, some of usll end up
In st. cloud prison,
And some of usll wind up
To be lawyers and things,
And some of usll stand up
To meet you on your crossroads,
From inside the walls,
The walls of red wing.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I read a book recently by a psychiatrist who was able to interview a few serial killers and she had a thesis on how you could figure these people out. And she thinks that there are things that could tell you whether someone has the potential to do that.
Like An Event
A lizard loads suffering on the nation of the sea,
It is to perform on the house by its rules, not what we saw;
Its lack of power reduces the weakness in our hearts,
Green and slimy, full of creams and disorders.
Serial killers watch a painful memory of the wall
When mice of men stagger and cry from whispers.
There is inaccuracy, and what lives and sings in teaching
Is like a solution and problem, one to be concerned with.
The lizards of the walls happen to be like colours,
They blink and surround, fully forming like events.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stone Walls
Written by - Jim Croce
It's been too many years inside this prison
Too many years just for one little fight
He got what was comin'
And I think I served enough time
I'm goin' home tonight
That stone looks mighty cold
And the guard that walks that wall
Is just waitin' to get a convict in his sights
But if I can clear the top
You can bet I'll never stop
Cause I'm goin' home tonight
Chorus:
Because stone walls do a prison
Make iron bars a cage
Any man who says they don't
Never been inside
Cause in time the bars get closer
And at night the walls grow tighter
Do you feel like there's a shackle around your mind?
Now those guards are on my tail
I can hear those sirens wail
But I know that I'll get away and that I'll be alright
Cause I'd rather live on the run
Stand free in the morning sun
Then to spend another lonely prison night
Chorus
song performed by by Jim Croce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Serial killers kill for the power and control they experience during the murders and for the added ego boost they get in the aftermath from community fears, media coverage, and the police investigations.
Killers Eyes
I see so little hope in you,
So much despair,
As I look in your eyes I wonder,
What thoughts linger there.
Life means nothing to you,
At least thats what they say,
But it doesnt mean that you have the right to take life away.
How were we to know what was going on inside your mind.
You never let it show what was going on behind
Those killers eyes
Killers eyes
Youve seen your picture in the paper.
Youre little sisters pinned it on the wall.
She thinks youre in some kind of movie.
Imagine her surprise when she saw you on the news.
Reporters came around and asked for interviews.
So little compassion, so icy cool.
They say you were a poor boy, you know that life can be cruel.
Hate builds up from childhood, your world was a slum
But you havent got the right to blow it to kingdom come
How could we know what it was like inside a killers mind
It never really showed, you kept the secret deep inside
Those killers eyes
Killers eyes
You say the world is full of bullshit,
So you kill just as you see fit.
They say that youre a fanatic with a mission.
We all go through hell in some kind of way,
Can you tell me what its like to be there every day?
When you were young you had a vision
Whyd you go and do a thing like that?
And now we see you on the television.
Imagine our surprise when we saw you on the news,
And reporters came around and asked for interviews.
I see so little hope in you,
So much despair,
As I look in your eyes I wonder,
What thoughts linger there.
Life means nothing to you,
At least thats what they say,
But it doesnt mean that you have the right to take life away.
When you were just a child
Youd hide away when other children cried
But how were we to know
These tears that flowed were from a killers eyes
I see so little hope in you,
So much despair,
As I look in your eyes I wonder,
What thoughts linger there.
Life means nothing to you,
At least thats what they say,
But it doesnt mean that you have the right to take life away.
Those killers eyes
See the whites of their eyes
Those killers eyes
See the whites of their eyes
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Serial killers are everywhere! Well, perhaps not in our neighborhood, but on our television screens, at the movie theatres, and in rows and rows of books at our local Borders or Barnes and Noble Booksellers.
Roses Growing In Our Own Prison Walls
this is the situation,
soon you will find
you live in prison walls,
and those who see you
tell you
you have no God.
perhaps they say that
since they see no
icons on our walls
we bow not
to sunsets
we make no wooden
crosses
oh, let us tell them
we've grown roses in our prison walls
on the fertile grounds
of our heart
we speak to God
in our poetry
with all the silence and
gentleness
and patience of the
snail
we have gone beyond
wood, and stone,
and images,
we have passed through
all these walls
man-made as they are,
we have jumped over the
fences of
the flesh, and they who use
their eyes
in the middle of their own
human light
do not see
we, have, only,
hearts.
we, are, pure,
hearts.
we, are, love,
solitude,
in privacy with
our God.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Vice and the wise
Friends turn killers, more than foes.
Accidents are killers, more than diseases
Paramours are killers, more than elopers.
The world has more by vice than the wise.
28.07.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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