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Murder On March
Folder:
The Point. The layer of clothes
With a stain of blood
Tickled by the ripples and folds
Boots cover with thick red mud
The man is distress
Was very confused
Realizing what kind of mess
And wasn't amuse
A kick on the door
It collapsed and flew
Right onto the floor
The man's face turned blue
Police cuffed the man
Told him his rights
The man had a plan
He tripped over a knife
The knife pierced his heart
The police just watched
The man died on the mark
The last day of March
