A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Friday, December 06, 2019

Murder is worse

Murder is worse
than other crimes.
A detective rears up,
indignant, appalled,
tightly-controlled furious
to decry
and harangue and
belittle us all, all we
who'd condone or consent
to murder. Who'd allow
ourselves
to be killed, by some
scum. We deserve
it! Their laser-like
focus on
cold, ruthless justice
and crime, like the one
we let come on. We rest
quiet easy, with such
pure cause. The forces
of hard intellect, pissed
off and deducing all manner
of leads and clues. As
our corpse
is no longer able
to cool,
we lie deep and easy
knowing, some murderer
soon will be found

a fool.

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