Oh, what a gal!
She seems such a perfect victim
This I can tell, for if beauty by guilt
She's guilty

Ordinarily
I'd not wish to frighten her or hurt her
But such beauty inspires one
To give the gift of murder

She's the kind of girl you want to
Run up and tackle through a window some floors up
And spatter you both to hell

Come and get it
Your stuffed bunny's at the window
But not that far out...
Reach little one! Reach!...

Tantalized a child is want to
Take a ill-considered
Course of action; such is life
Is experience not bitter?

Leaning too far
Out the open attic casement window
Baby plummets
To a messy death not so far below

Rend your flesh to ribbons
On shards of broken glass
Fading screams and abruptly

Defenestration