A man can drive a woman mad
When he strings a girl along
And sings a perfect song of love
And pretends he does no wrong
And when he sets his eyes on Ann
And flirts with Sammy too
There's little else to say or think
You know just what to do
You wait until the evening falls
And creep into their home
Your friends are safe and sleeping sound
And so you're free to roam
You step real soft, your footsteps light
But guns are bloody loud
Sammy wakes and screams in fear
You shoot and drape a shroud
What to do you start to think
These bodies can't stay here
You go to work and filch a trunk
To make them disappear
You cut them up, in small neat chunks
Then shove them deep inside
You ship the trunks to tinsel town
And follow for the ride
But cases full of bodies smell
Of foul and wrongful deaths
And you get caught lightening quick
Your hands are Ms. Macbeth's
The trial draws a record crowd
You cause a mighty scene
And when they sentence you to life
You act right mad and mean
A looney bin is where it's at
That's where you ought to be
But once you're locked inside those doors
You pack your bags and flee
You bite your tongue and take a job
Your wages go unpaid
So you decide to go to court
And there your fortune's made
You live until you're lined and old
Alone, aloof and tame
And when they ask about the trunk
You always shift the blame,
"It's not my fault they stepped to me
They took that man of mine
And now they rot for what they did
I think that's just divine"
YOU ARE READING
Wicked Women
PoesíaWicked Women is a collection of poems written from the eyes of history's most maligned and hated women. This collection explores what motivated these "evil" women to commit murders, robberies, and other infamous crimes and offers a glimpse beyond th...
