A Story Of Murder Poem by David Harris

It always amazes me of the cruelty
and barbarism that lingers within our world.
If you are squeamish,
please do not read any further.
For what I am about to write
might well upset you.
This is the story about a murder
of a woman, my friend’s ex-wife.
It is quite disturbing
because what is written is true.
This did happen.

She was lying in her bed.
She had been bedridden for a while.
Her strength had been ebbing away
a little each day.
The murderer who’s mother was a neighbour
looked in on her every once in a while
to make her food and a cup of tea
and to see if she was OK.
The son needed drugs and money,
took his mother’s key.
He let himself in and started to look
for anything that was valuable.
Whether she heard him
and shouted out to him
has not been established yet.
However, what happened next
should not happen to anyone.
He went upstairs and stood beside her bed.
It was probably when she spoke to him
that he started hitting her around the face.
He punched her so hard
that he broke her jaw.
She had no strength to push him away,
but he just kept beating her
all the time around the face.

Then he grabbed something heavy
and smashed it over her skull
caving it in and causing damage to the brain.
However, this callous man was not finished yet.
Grabbing a pillow commenced to smother her.
It is unknown whether she had any strength to struggle
with the injuries she had received;
however, I doubt it though.
The police have caught and charged him
and his trial come up at the Old Bailey later this year.
I just hope they throw the book at him,
as society does not want the likes of him
walking the streets again…
I met this women a couple of times
and she was a lovely person
and did not deserve this kind of end.
I am ending this piece here as my rage
for such a crime will get the better of me
and I will start saying things I should not say.

16 March 2008