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Array ( [sid] => 98427 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Mary Smith's Rage [time] => 2005-06-17 23:22:44 [hometext] => Came to me and wrote it on Paper. It's a creepy poem that will surely entertain you from beginning till end [bodytext] => Mary Smith’s Rage:

There sat a white house, rusted with age
On top of a hill named “Mary Smith’s Rage”
Many had rumored and many had talked
About Mary Smith’s spirit inside the house walked
During the nights the whisper of her name ringed
She would answer with those chilling words she so warmly singed

Her family had died, a day of December
She had taken their lives, but did not remember
Her 3 sons and daughter were slaughtered by her own hands
Yet she blamed her husband whom she did not give a chance
She killed him that night, that she did know
But refused the thought of killing 5 in a row

So she grabbed the bloody knife that laid on the floor
And sliced her own wrist, that had already been torn
“What?” She asked out loud, again forgetting what just happened
She had already killed her self while stabbing her husband

She was left to wander her cold lonely home
Tormented by the cries of her family that only she had known
This story was told as it penetrated the white house’s walls
While many had wondered if this story was true or false
Either way, none dared prove it wrong
For if they got too close, they’d hear Mary’s song

None knew why her family she had killed
After leaving her house locked and safely sealed
What happened on that white house has no last page
No ending to the mystery of the hill “Mary Smith’s Rage”

Why? And How? Are the most popular questions
Of this story that had a devastating destination
Those who found the key to Mary’s life and the hill’s mystery
Were soon doomed by Mary Smith’s own history

“Dare not be near,” the song had said
“Or I shall haunt your soul as you walk or lay on your bed.
I do not understand how I ended like this
Killed my own family and the reason had missed
But you will not, as you relive my own life
From the moment I killed my children to the moment I dropped the knife
I’ll see you in hell also known as the house of “Mary Smith’s Rage”
The white house that will suck you in and in it’s history will have you engaged!” [comments] => 1 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Lurking_Shadow [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
Mary Smith's Rage

Contributed by Lurking_Shadow on Friday, 17th June 2005 @ 11:22:44 PM in AEST
Topic: StoryPoetry



Mary Smith’s Rage:

There sat a white house, rusted with age
On top of a hill named “Mary Smith’s Rage”
Many had rumored and many had talked
About Mary Smith’s spirit inside the house walked
During the nights the whisper of her name ringed
She would answer with those chilling words she so warmly singed

Her family had died, a day of December
She had taken their lives, but did not remember
Her 3 sons and daughter were slaughtered by her own hands
Yet she blamed her husband whom she did not give a chance
She killed him that night, that she did know
But refused the thought of killing 5 in a row

So she grabbed the bloody knife that laid on the floor
And sliced her own wrist, that had already been torn
“What?” She asked out loud, again forgetting what just happened
She had already killed her self while stabbing her husband

She was left to wander her cold lonely home
Tormented by the cries of her family that only she had known
This story was told as it penetrated the white house’s walls
While many had wondered if this story was true or false
Either way, none dared prove it wrong
For if they got too close, they’d hear Mary’s song

None knew why her family she had killed
After leaving her house locked and safely sealed
What happened on that white house has no last page
No ending to the mystery of the hill “Mary Smith’s Rage”

Why? And How? Are the most popular questions
Of this story that had a devastating destination
Those who found the key to Mary’s life and the hill’s mystery
Were soon doomed by Mary Smith’s own history

“Dare not be near,” the song had said
“Or I shall haunt your soul as you walk or lay on your bed.
I do not understand how I ended like this
Killed my own family and the reason had missed
But you will not, as you relive my own life
From the moment I killed my children to the moment I dropped the knife
I’ll see you in hell also known as the house of “Mary Smith’s Rage”
The white house that will suck you in and in it’s history will have you engaged!”




Copyright © Lurking_Shadow ... [ 2005-06-17 23:22:44]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Mary Smith's Rage (User Rating: 1 )
by AnastasiaN on Saturday, 18th June 2005 @ 03:51:17 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
this was an awesome creepy poem! only i would recommend...just out of my own reading preferences...in order to keep your audience sustained and to keep your message prominent to cut out the last three stanzas. i dunno i was enthralled by it til those and then the meaning kind of disappeared. but cool play otherwise!




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