Jack's Back...On An Unforgiving Night Like This... Poem by Shaun Cronick

Again I walk a Whitechapel street,
Near where the Thames does flow.
Many fresh faces I shall greet,
In its darkness strewn with woe.

I've been away for a while,
Slowly killing time in hell.
Where the devil is my admirer,
And released me for doing well.

I return from beyond my grave,
You can't keep a good Jack down,
But in my case a truly bad one,
Stalking again in Whitechapel town.

Oh! It feels good to be back,
I will now put on a wicked show,
My tools always carried with me,
All guaranteed to make blood flow.

Cold steel instruments of death,
Feel natural in my tight grip.
Then I slip into dark character
As I tear, cut, slice and rip.

Feels good to be back in the game,
My tally demonically on the rise.
Beware inky black London streets,
That reveal a slashing surprise.

You all know what I do seek,
If ever forgotten a travesty.
An insult to crime's history,
And to my infamous legacy...

Hello my dear.
Good heavens you're alone.
On an unforgivingnight like this...