The Toy Collector

The toy collector was a misfit,
among the rest of his peers,
so he spent his free time collecting,
many toys over the years.

Toys without a purpose,
broken toys that wouldn't impress,
and the number of toys that he had,
you couldn't begin to guess.

Some of the toys looked ancient,
while others looked brand new,
some looked like they might fall apart,
and were held together by invisible glue.

But the toy collector kept on gathering,
different toys from each climate on earth,
and he really didn't seem to care,
how much each one was worth.

His peers began to mock him,
as his collection rapidly grew,
but it started off so innocently,
that he never had a clue.

They called him a baby,
and told him to act his age,
but all that the taunting did,
was proceed to increase his rage.

One day he finally snapped,
all the reasoning inside him broke,
the day they took his favorite toy,
simply for a cruel joke.

They smashed it into pieces,
said it was for his own good,
a single tear fell from his eyes,
just like they knew it would.

They turned their backs and left,
didn't say another word,
leaving him to pick up the pieces,
of his precious tiny bird.

Along with the toy they broke his soul,
and he swore he would make them pay,
he wasn't exactly sure how right now,
but the answer would come to him one day.

The day he saw a voodoo doll,
he knew exactly what to do,
he picked it up and brought it home,
hidden in an old gym shoe.

He didn't know what was going to happen,
as he pushed the pin right through,
but he knew that whatever did,
was long past overdue.

He grinned as he put in the next pin,
along with a handful more,
thinking that maybe this way,
he would be able to even the score.

When he was finished with his fun,
he put the doll away,
along with the silver pins,
placed neatly on a sparking tray.

He went to school the next day,
expecting to feel more pain,
however one of his tormentors was gone,
and the rest looked mentally drained.

He ran past the bully's house,
to see him dead and bleeding on the floor,
as he ran home for the next voodoo doll,
he knew he wouldn't get teased anymore.

Two more precious voodoo dolls,
two more bullies no longer a threat,
today he had done something,
no one soon would forget.

After a while the killing became a habit,
he got rid of people who just made him mad,
no matter what little thing they did,
and afterwords he always felt glad.

The cops became involved,
as his death count continued to rise,
always one step behind him.
they kept getting his consolation prize.

A precious little voodoo doll,
in the same position as the deceased,
a re-enactment of the death,
which showed the nature of the beast.

They found a little doll,
submerged in a water filled glass,
they weren't prepared to see their victim,
for their idea it far surpassed.

A gray and bloated body,
tied to the bottom of a pool,
a blown up image of the little doll,
now just a dead body of a boy from school.

The bodies began to appear,
while the culprit was still on the loose,
when no immediate solutions were found,
to the case more and more cops were introduced.

Twenty little voodoo dolls,
the cops had found to date,
each one death more gruesome than the last,
each one showed a haunting fate.

The last few dolls had a look of terror,
their bodies were covered in blood,
but it was caked on and a deep black,
to an untrained eye it would have looked like mud.

Two cops on the case in the beginning,
were in the office one day,
when all of a sudden they telephone rang,
and the clue made them leave right away.

The clue said that they knew they killer,
and gave an address where he could be found,
the "Toy Collector" was what they called him,
then they hung up and didn't make a sound.

The two cops headed straight for the given address,
kicked the front door right in,
rushed the house as quickly as they could,
but were shocked by what they found within.

It wasn't a little doll,
nor was it a man,
it was just a little boy sitting,
playing with a toy police man.

Sitting alone in the house.
not another soul to be found,
just him and the little doll,
playing on the cold, hard ground.

The cops carefully approached him,
looked around, waiting for the killer to strike,
then the little boy's eyes looked up,
in his hand was a tiny spike.

He drove the spike into the doll,
causing the cops to fall to the ground,
they couldn't believe their eyes,
the killer they had just found.

It was the innocent little boy,
who made them search for so long,
who's innocent little act,
had made them overlook what they knew to be wrong.

How many little boys,
play alone in an empty house?
However he played the act so well,
they thought him to be as innocent as a mouse.

They would never get to share,
anything that they had learned,
and as they both lay dying,
that was the only thing for which they yearned.

They yearned to share the secret,
put a stop to the ongoing crime,
help close the case after so long,
show others what can happen after time.

But they died before they got the chance,
and the little boy continued to play,
still creating more voodoo dolls,
offing those who got in his way.

So if you see a little boy playing,
try not to enrage his mind,
for if you do a voodoo doll,
might be all that they can find.

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