Up at the attic,

I saw my twin,

Hang her head, I watch her dead.

I promised not to speak,

Everything’s a bleak.

She wishes for this to happened,

She ends her despair.

Back then, we played a lot of hide and seek,

She catches me weak,

And so, I ponder why she’d go?

And made me promised to hide what I know.

We played houses, make-believe roles,

She owned kitchen sets where she used to steal,

She said, it will be a quick feel.

Cut my fingers off, hammered me down,

And then She told mom, that I run of off town,

Now, I’m back with my night gown,

A minute, a little late

To town.

 

 

Text Prompt : Write a mystery poem. The crime could be real or imagined. The poem could be clue based or narrative. The details are up to you.

 

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