Poem -

Murder

Murder

Murder is a quiet religionist.
Bullet to the head on a July night.
Veteran of the cold unholy war.
Cute baby boy and a lovely new bride.

Murder is red the color of the dead.
The hot case is closed but the crime is not.
Suicide not homicide to report.
"Too bad", say all the tired parties involved.

Murder walks the streets hungry every night.
Looking for victims to fill the black bag.
Looking for guests to fill holes in the ground.
Another fast night on murderers row.

Murder is a love angry and cruel.
He should have thought before letting her go.
He should have thought twice before stepping out.
He will never look at the girl next door.

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