112 Ocean Avenue...Amityville

BASED ON A TRUE STORY

On November 13th in Amityville of 1974,
I sat soundless and waiting in an old rocking chair,
for something I didn’t know what for.
Until all of a sudden I felt it, an embrace of an unseen force,
It changed me in ways I couldn’t describe,
As if I couldn’t feel remorse.

I climbed upstairs and grabbed a gun with nothing but a breath.
What happened next would haunt me, through life and even death.
Two bullets for each of my parents of whom I loved so dear,
A bullet for the eldest child who shed but one a tear,
A bullet for the middle two whose blood had left a smear, 
And at last a bullet for little John. Oh help me God what have I done?!

I walked down stairs and stood in shock,
With 3:15 written all over the clocks.
My family all dead, laying on their stomachs in bed,
With blood oozing from their chests and spilling from their heads.
I would come up with a story, I would come up with a lie, of how my family came to die.
“It was a hit man that killed them, not I, not I.”

I ran outside and down the lots and declared, “You got to help me! My mother and father have been shot!”
People yelled and screamed in fear while I secretly gave a sickly sneer.
One year later I was sentenced to jail for life,
While a man moved to town with his children and his wife.
And the hauntings still remained for that family and yet to come,
On 112 Ocean Avenue with hopes to overcome.