CXLV
He remembered
speaking to her,
On that tragedy
way past nine.
Such past
he refuse to recur,
Of a troublesome
storyline.
CXLVI
That one night
when the air was dense,
Falling hard
was the winter snow,
He walked that cold street
passed her thence,
Dear old Mary
dropped down so low.
CXLVII
He hid
behind the confused crowd.
In silence
waited for such hope.
Breaking the promise
that he vowed,
He wanted her
to stand and cope.
CXLVIII
What truth to say
and what to lie?
For this Paragon
seems too strong.
Would she believe
such alibi?
Would she seize him
by his singsong?
CXLIX
He looked at her
with such regret.
She looked at him
with such dismay.
He thought of
a forever debt,
Of one which
he could never pay.
CL
The young man tried
to stay at peace.
Yet struggled
to look in her eyes.
Sensing him
not at certainease,
She started
to ask and reprise.
YOU ARE READING
The Curtain Call on The Murder of Mary
PoetryWhen one young woman heartlessly drops, who else could assemble together the shattered pieces to unriddle the story of her demise?
