What Goes Around Comes Around
White satin in a delicate pleat,
by Rebecca Wright
The church is full to brim.
As each man comes to take his seat,
And reads the book of hymns.
A car outside is elegant black,
And shiny from the sun.
When they walk in, and looking back,
The star is sure to come.
A heart it beats, growing ever thicker,
And veins they cry so loud.
You clasp the gun pull the trigger,
Your mother would be proud.
As dark draws in you close your eyes,
And dream of bats all night.
Soaring blackly in the sky,
Shrouded, by dark light.
An empty head and empty mind
Are all you need to do,
To carry out the foretold crime
So you can see it through.
Poisons run wild in your veins
And take over your head.
You clasp the small jar, not ashamed,
Within minutes you are
Dead like leaves that fell so long,
Ago when summer killed.
A magpie sings his little song,
And mutters 'fire at will'