I really had not planned on making this a weekly thing. I don't write poems that often. I also figured what few readers I have would get bored and wander off if I kept posting my weak version of poetry. But here we are again and I wrote another poem last night.
This one needs a bit of a disclaimer. This poem is in no way about me or anyone that I know. Please do not start emailing or calling me in panic. Life has been rough the last few months, but I'm too genetically happy for it to get me this far down.
I've said it before and I'll say it again. Sometimes I have no idea where my poems come from. They just hit me and I feel compelled to write them down.
So without further ado......
sad tears on the window sill
with an empty view to nowhere
lonely words in a worn diary
pages covered with salty stains
dreams hidden between the covers
never to see the light of day
no one she could talk to
without a shoulder to lean on
she wasn’t missed for five days
by then it was far too late
all that’s left is an investigation
and scattered clues to find
officers fill a flowered room
that she’s only been in alone
no fingerprints but her own
the doors locked from inside
only one conclusion to be drawn
the suspect list is too short
blame can be firmly placed
it’s clear what happened here
she was stalked by melancholy
and violently killed by loneliness