At the grand hotel

Poem

A grand hotel is where I stayed.

Five hundred a night is what I payed.

Three rooms, two bath, a servant too.

A stained-glass window from ceiling to shoe.

.

No one noticed that I was he:

the man who robbed two and murdered three.

My wig was gelled; my clothing, neat.

Yet I’ve been on the run for over a week.

.

I did what I did out of greed.

I never look back after I flee.

I’ll do it again a thousand times.

I might be insane, for I show the signs.

.

The window is open and wind blows in.

Jumping now should atone for my sins.

My body shakes. There’s sweat on my hands.

With a vicious plop, my body lands.

©️SM

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Posted Nov 29, 2022, 2:19 AM UTC

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