Death of a Therapist
Sitting in a black chair
After a heavy drink
Hanging from a light fitting
Face down on the floor
Who killed the therapist?
Nobody is sure
That night she left the latch off
The back door
There was a twitchy curtain at number 24
A psychotic son aged 21 and on the run
The cops are looking for
Was it in the dish she ate at exactly a quarter past eight
Every night
She had turned an awful shade of green a ghastly sight!
Or was it in the glass of burgundy she liked to drink at nine
Did someone tamper with her chicken kievs?
Did someone spike her wine?
Or did she simply DIE?
YES DIE Lie DEAD as a dodo for hours on the floor?
No flowers, no wild applauses
Just behind the door
The coroner had a twitch when he said 'Natural causes'
But still they're looking for
A man called moses who leaves roses for the poor and outside unsuspecting doors
The curtain twitcher at number24
A chef called mabel who had a problem with drink and spoke to the shrink, face to face, leaving a gift of fine burgundy wine in a bright
yellow case on the side
A son on the run with a gun who hated his mum and thought the shrink had taken her in, to hide her from him
Were they 'Identical twins? '
An old man with a dribble and a grudge with an oversized head
Had wished the shrink dead
For stealing his fudge and leaving him cold in his bed
Or casinova Dan tha 'man' she left him for
Who left her lipstick love notes by the door
Afraid that she would stalk him kept his bunny by his bed
Then fled after finishing her off
Settling the dust of an unsettled score?
The mystery remains unsolved
But much later dead clients were found
One lying in the laundry basket 'upside down'
A body floating in the swimming pool where she had drowned
And a cupboard full of strangers hanging up with coats
Marked 'lost and found! '
The therapist had been a serial killer for sometime
Some put put it down to ingesting Mabel's 'Toxic wine'
Mabel was arrested for her brutal crime
But a shadow of doubt was cast across the jury
Because she always arrived after nine never in time
And the wine on the side was not red
Rumour has it she hit her head
Fell back in the chair
Slid onto the floor
And was found face down
By Mabel who broke down the door
All admitted she took fright and quitted the scene in shock
Without calling the cops
She was acquitting found Not Guilty! for knocking her off
Sent to rehab to dry out threw all her licquor out
But a shadow of doubt still continues to hang over,
Casanova Dan
The dribbling man
The son on the run with a gun, only 21
And now postman called Fred
Who found mrs P dead at number 24
And was seen to be dragging a large parcel away from the door
poem by Yvette Smith
Added by Poetry Lover
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