Under the weeping willow sat a fine lady,
she was elegance, a sophisticated baroness.
She was all that could be asked from a patroness,
and everyone knew her as Mrs. Brady.
It wasn't sunny outside, some say it was shady,
there was some inexplicable sense of villainess,
but Mrs. Brady thought herself safe by her selflessness,
and she never realised where laid he.
Oh, poor Mrs. Brady! How naïve!
He took out his knife and slit her throat,
and soon enough he began to gloat.
The Lady Catrina watched from afar,
imagining, thinking how to set up that grave.
This time she taken with her a grand star.
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Ridiculous Thoughts
PoetryExperimental poetry I wrote after facing heartbreak. Most of the titles in these poems are inspired by my favourite songs.
