Crime Scene

Laying flat out on the floor,
No life in them anymore.
Outline around the body.
Something about this seems staged and dodgy.

Seventeen scrawled on the brick.
Its like someone is taking the mick.
But this joke is in no way funny.
Whoever was responsible was sick and scummy.

Autopsy reveals nothing much.
Maybe I’m just out of touch.
Retirement is coming and I’m tired.
Perhaps it would be better investigated by someone inspired.

I refuse to let this be the one.
Rather stand before a crook with a gun.
Cause this psycho isn’t winning this.
Can’t be forever where there is nothing amiss.

Three days later another call.
Rush to the scene to see the gall.
Whoever’s the killer is one sick fiend.
Could be they’re even worse than I dreamed.

Poor young guy torn to shreds.
Little more left than bloody threads.
It was a sight to have to behold.
And right on the corner is so damn bold.

Unlike before we get a trace.
At last a lead to chase.
Started to think it would drive me insane.
That all the death would rot out my old brain.

Get a hit that leads to an address.
Modern tech I again do bless.
Without it this monster might have got away.
But that will not be how it will end, ok?

Rush to the building with no pause.
Stack and storm like snapping jaws.
Search the building and only find a note.
Its pure mockery taunting us with a gloat.

Suddenly I’m hit by the greatest thought.
I exclaim I know how to get them caught.
Colleagues follow close behind.
As we travel I explain how we will detain.

The rest you know cause now here you sit.
Thought you’d got away with all of it.
But in the end you were just too cocky.
And that arrogance made you so sloppy.

Not that it matters much now.
For you are locked in this tiny cell.
Case is built and its airtight.
Soon you will be setenced for all your violence and spite.