The Cleaner

Black bag, painted skin,
No stains on the carper, to the freezer then.
Hand cuffed and chained,
Another body, unnamed.

A gallon of bleach to remove the blood stains,
Wipe away all the evidence until nothing remains.
A pint of liquor to drown the sorrow away,
At least until the next day.

The feeling lingers of the bones I broke,
Take a moment to step out and light up a smoke.
Nothing remains as the embers die,
Only my smoke fills the night sky.

Peeling the skin and grinding the bones,
Constantly stopping to answer the phones.
Offered a job with a well paying proposal,
Never knew it was just surgical disposal.

The room now cool as I dispose of any minor detail,
Back tracking my steps to be sure that I didn't leave a trail,
On to the next stop, as I start checking my list,
I always thought this type of story came with a plot twist...

I guess in the end its not all that bad,
I thought I had gone nuts, completely mad.
They say that on the other side the grass is always greener,
Well, its always nice over here because I maintains it, I'm the cleaner.