Up the alley,
down the lane,
through the streets,
he follows Jane.
In the shadows,
of the dark,
he follows her
into the park.
Darker there,
he sees his chance.
But to make sure,
he gives a glance,
Right and left,
No. No~one there.
He knows there's little
time to spare.
Stepping softly,
lifts his knife.
Slits her throat,
he ends Jane's life.
Lizzy Tomlinson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/murder-3/
