This Poem was Submitted By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2001-08-31 11:28:09 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Forty Years Ago

I know I am going to gather my courage today I'll wait for her as she walks her morning walk Of course we will have time before she goes off to work Why can't you understand how important she is to me Excitement fills my every thought What will I do if she says no Will I be able to leave her alone What will I do if she screams Bind her arms and legs Cover her mouth with tape No I want to be able to see her move I want to feel her close to me I want so much for her to be mine Try as she might to squirm away Begging me for her freedom Never will I let her go Your mine now you foolish little girl Why did you take a walk today Why is this your destiny Why didn't you listen when you were told To stay away from this wooded path Certainly there's a house or two Certainly someone would hear Certainly you are now alone On this somewhat hidden path Did you not hear me as I passed you In the distant brush Even the morning birds song fell on your deaf ears Could you then not feel me Could you sense my excitement  I see you now as you round the bend I smile mouth good morning as you pass by I see your look of surprise to see me Standing there on this isolated path Stranger I am Fear enters your soul I see you pick up your pace  Quickly I grab for you In our struggle we fall to the ground I need to see you I need to touch you I need to feel inside you Scream if you wish I'm ready to explode with each movement I slap my hands over your mouth They slip down to cover your neck Squeeze for excitement  did I You fell limp no sound did you make My God  wake up  don't do this to me  My mind went out of control worse then it already was I tied a nylon stocking around your neck I hung you to a tree like wet laundry to dry There you stayed for many a day  On this isolated path Your death was ruled a homicide  By the local police To this day no arrest has been made The papers mentioned the Boston Strangler Hit this small New England town Now he is gone  Died in prison and with him He took my blame Forty years has come and gone I'm now a very old man Thinking about you again Can't rightly says if I'm sorry or not The hardest thing to forget is That I was your old man

Copyright © August 2001 Claire H. Currier

Additional Notes:
A young woman was murdered forty years ago in my hometown when the Boston Strangler was murgering women in the Boston area. Structure could use some help as most likely punctuation for I never use it; this does not rhyme or if it does in part it happened that way. This form of writing is new to me. I'm not sure why it was written but once it was started I could not stop it felt like someone other then I was writing. I know this can use help......thank you ahead of time.


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