The Black Book
The book was lying there on the floor,slightly hidden beneath the bed,
but the officer that worked the scene
was careful in using her head
to gather all the evidence and tag
each item by number and description
and place them gingerly in each bag
as she collected it, she made the inscription
of a name found in that black book,
the one that she new all too well.
It was the name of an officer on duty;
he's a correction officer at County Jail!
But he wasn't there today;
no he wasnt' to be found at all
because he was confronted at the doorway
by his son standing in the hall.
Fingerprints were taken and compared
to the man who did the crime.
He was the officer gone missing;
he was way past the starting time.
"Daddy what are you doing to mommy?"
His son asked with a tremble in his voice.
"Why daddy did you hurt my mommy?
I heard all this yelling and screaming noise."
The man he just stood there gasping;
trying to control what he said.
"I tried to help your mommy son.
She just fell down and bumped her head."
A knock on the door brought him to his senses.
He heard familiar voices at the door.
He peered out of the bedroom window
and saw the patrol cars in his yard.
He looked at sickness of the scene around him
then he spoke numbly to his little son,
"Go to your room now, boy! Right now!"
and then the man got his favorite gun.
While the officers broke through the door,.
the man with the gun in his hand took aim.
Shots blasted loudly through the house
echoing, ringing, telling, of the man with his name
in the little black book found beneath the bed
at the murder scene of the woman in her black satin slip.
He fell to the floor instantly dead
while the blood flowed from his ultimate red lips.
Kathy Lockhart
August 1, 2006
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
Read 622 times
Written on 2006-08-01 at 08:03
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