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Poem

Oh how I thought, what a perfect crime.
As I had spent so much time,
plotting it out, every day in my mind.
Until I felt, it was time for her to go.
When I knew no one, would ever know.
There came such a freeing feeling, oh I felt it so.

I would take her for a walk,
way high up in the hills.
Where the mountain lions,
are well known for their brutal kills.
I'd shred her to pieces, rip her all apart. 
Then play the pitied widower, with a sad broken heart.
And when I came down, acting as a man who lost all senses.
Well all the town, gave me their condolences.
I'd gotten away clean, I'd done the deed well.
No one would ever know, as no one could tell.
No feeling of guilt, and not the least bit sad.
That night I slept, the best sleep I ever had.

And when I woke in the morning, thinking all was okay.
No no, no way, no way it was not.
"Oh god what have I done?"
"Oh no!" I thought.
Then a nauseous feeling swept over me,
causing a weakening, in my legs.
If I had just taken the life of my wife.
Who would cook my eggs?

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