She thought it was the perfect crime,
But, I knew, I could make her sing;
Somehow, she hadn’t noticed
that she dropped a gold earring.
The suicide note that she faked
included the letter “p”,
but the typewriter that sat upon his desk
had the hammer missing for that key.
The ashtray full of cigarettes
had butts covered with a unique lipstick of pink,
matching the stains also upon
the glasses in her sink.
And, I saw the airplane ticket
she carried inside her purse
was a one-way trip straight out of town
that she had purchased on the first.
When I confronted her with these facts,
she knew the gig was up;
She tried to bribe me to let her go,
but this Detective you can’t corrupt.
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2014
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