A Poem I Didn'T Write
A mystery of mayhem and murder.
A tale of where nobody heard her.
She's lost in the script, her clothes didn't get ripped.
As there wasn't a need to alert her.
The ending's the same every time.
The secret is written in rhyme.
What happen'd that night was just this.
In duty, the cops were remiss.
She longed for the tables to turn.
A yen she had needed to burn.
A captive of worlds far away.
She lived in a world of just play.
When music is written for two.
It's not written only for you.
Inside each of us lives a dream.
We await our enchanted moon beam.
Getting back to the plot of this story.
The answer is clear, not too gory.
When no body will tell of the horror and hell.
There's just nothing to see here but glory.
:):):) ahhhhh :).
Well, now you know what was not really written.
A tale of some one who was smitten.
With only a dream that really didn't seem.
To be what you all thought would be fittn'. :)
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