Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013 · 433
Dear Fear
Brigitte Pace Nov 2013
I wore a smile on my face
my pulse began to really race
my knees trembled, my hands shook
I was petrified of that look
I tried to compose myself but the more I tried
The adrenaline that was pumping inside of me, I could not hide
His eyes bore down on me and I sensed his mood
I saw the gavel and I knew I was *******!

Brigitte
Nov 2013 · 497
Dear Fear
Brigitte Pace Nov 2013
I wore a smile on my face
my pulse began to really race
my knees trembled, my hands shook
I was petrified of that look
I tried to compose myself but the more I tried
The adrenaline that was pumping inside of me, I could not hide
His eyes bore down on me and I sensed his mood
I saw the gavel and I knew I was *******!

Brigitte
Nov 2013 · 377
Dear Fear
Brigitte Pace Nov 2013
I wore a smile on my face
my pulse began to really race
my knees trembled, my hands shook
I was petrified of that look
I tried to compose myself but the more I tried
The adrenaline that was pumping inside of me, I could not hide
His eyes bore down on me and I sensed his mood
I saw the gavel and I knew I was *******!

Brigitte
Nov 2013 · 1.0k
Crime Time
Brigitte Pace Nov 2013
A body lay slashed on the ground
murdered in broad daylight, no witness had heard a sound
my John Doe had no name
to the killer this was just a game
this was the eight victim in one week
and I was not on a lucky streak
the officer's dog sniffed the ground
he was an asset, a highly trained hound
seconds later he seemed to have found a trail
when he returned, he was limping towards me and ****** in his leg was a rusty nail
I took it out and put it on the palm of my hand
saw a flash coming from the woodland
we ran into the woods looking for clues
this led us to more bad news
a car in a ditch, two more we found dead
spatterings of blood, a deep crimson red
the killer was still on the run
I felt it was useless waving my gun
the officers left to carry on with the search
in the distance I saw a winding road and a small church
could the killer be hiding there
or was he still in the woods over here
I walked down a bumpy lane
and felt a sharp object pointed at my brain
it didn't take me long to figure it out
I couldn't move, I didn't shout
I heard a terrible high pitched sound
in the background
oh how I thank that brave hound


Brigitte Pace

— The End —