A RoseMature

I was watching a documentary on Jack the Ripper and this poem popped into my head. A modern day take on him.

My heart pounds in my chest.

Then you touch my gentle breast.

I fell like I'm starring in a show.

You're my audience as my heart sinks low.

This isn't right, it wasn't right.

I see the blood and scream in fear.

Now I wish I wasn't near.

My eyes flutter and then sink close.

On my chest you lay a single rose.

You lean in close and whisper, "Goodbye."

Then run into the darkness as though you are shy.

The End

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