I don't think you'll like this poem. Don't dare read it! |
"Hi there Buddy!" was my blithely greets. But in a moment, I felt unpleased. Perhaps my strength to write retreats. But no! This secret I must release. My fingers trembled as I press the keys Cursor's blinks seem in dismay To confess, yes I will be. Yet, I don't know how to start my story. My eyes stared on bolded words "I murdered her," in highlight red. My heart seemed pierce with swords, "Don't kill me, please..." she once had said. "I was drunk and lost control, You knew I loved her ever since. I killed her to end up all. She cheated me!" was my defense. This confession email for my trusted friend Is all complete. The murderer's tale. Still, I had doubts to hit the 'send'. And wished he keep this private mail. My tension rose, hands were clasped. His name was entered on field 'recipient' My chest heaved as I gasped. My monitor now displayed 'message sent'. I had thoughts to undo the process But before I did, a reply had came I had it open in just one press 'What the... " NBI was the name. And here arrived the arresting men They searched my place and found me in. I was captured for that damn 'wrong send' A life long sentence to repent my sin. Line count: 32 lines Prompt: Write a STORY or POEM about sending a very private email to the wrong person. What's in the email and who was it sent to? What happens? NBI: National Bureau of Investigation, similar to FBI THE WRITER'S CRAMP OCTOBER 9, 2013 |