The Perfect Murder
You don’t need guns or bombs to kill a man,
Consider the case of my friend and Suzanne,
Three steps is all it took for pretty little her,
To pull all of what’s called the perfect murder.
The first step was the hesitant glance,
Not a knife or an old rusted lance.
The look tore through my friend’s heart,
Just a charming look, no poisoned darts.
The second step was the silent yes,
In her mother’s old black college dress,
All she said was you are the one,
Just a yes, not even a shot from a gun.
The last step was the tearless goodbye,
But he was still not ready to die,
He bravely refused to be her kill,
Grasped for breath, his sweet poison pill.
So she did what she had to do,
She had to see the job through,
She released her weapon for the final blow,
The look in his dead eyes, I wish I could show.
A look of shock and a helpless plea,
The perfect weapon was she with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment