The Gentleman Caller Poem by Shaun Cronick

Oh he's an absolute monster,
A real player of the game.
He's the master of perfection,
Puts other killers to shame.

He's prim and ever so proper,
Polite and extremely discreet.
His murders are today legion,
On victims he visits to meet.

Women so trusting towards him,
All beguiled by him on line.
He uses upmarket dating sites,
Different identities every time.

But its the words he chooses,
That woo and win every one.
A bona fide charming Casanova,
That lonely suitors never shun.

Simply romance is all they seek,
An evening with a refined man.
A man who is so sophisticated,
A murderer with a pitiless plan.

He always uses hunting knives,
That cut deep into the bone.
And he'll always take a trophy,
From the carnage he has sown.

Not a single scrap of evidence,
We retrieve from any crime scene.
He's like something supernatural,
This slayer who gets away clean.

We have an apt name we call him,
Who's public infamy grows taller.
This mass murderer connoisseur,
We nick name The Gentleman Caller.