Dames Fond Poem by Ragy Sandid

Whoever heard of a person
With a license to kill
Who issues such a license?
How much is the bill?

Dames, a more polite term
Fly like flies
Is it because they’re too many
Or with a clue to the size

The fiction strange than fact
He can kill and talk about it
Or maybe not because if he does
People will seriously doubt it

What about the days
When he has no one to kill
These must be boring
Then only time he can bend to his will

So far the only attraction is for kids
Who want to make sure how he killed
And how many women under his belt
So, how many issues has he so far built?