Eroded by time
Thinned by the darkness
You can read all about it
The headlines, in their starkness:
LOCAL HERO MURDERED
Was a regular volunteer at the old age home
And apparently cleaned the park in his spare time
Was in the pub only to help a tourist from Rome—
All this, and he has the wrong name
The shame, the shame.
DNA tests, eye-witnesses there on the lane
And still he has the wrong name.
Then the monster runs with this cover
Hoping it’ll shield him from his 'lover'.
Such similar features
Such different creatures
The killer twirls her knife and wonders whether she’ll ever aim it right.
Whether she’ll ever get the right monsters down.
Whether she’ll ever get a life.
YOU ARE READING
Corridor of Portraits
PoetryA corridor, its walls covered with portraits, stretches ahead of you. Some areas are lit up artistically, others frighteningly dark. Indecision grips you for a moment, but you must go on. You came here for answers, and you will get them. (A/N: Curr...
