Silence spread through the small gray room
as the heads all dropped in apparent gloom.
They all stood up as the music played,
and walked to the front where the body laid.
One by one they stared at the face
solemnly still in a reverent grace.
First comes the wife who knew him so well
her mind held the secret she never could tell.
Next came the son the eldest of two,
when the time was right he knew what to do.
Last came the mother who was so far away,
she just couldn’t see why it happened that day.
The man lay smiling, gray and serene,
he seemed to be waiting for what might have been.
His best suit covered the wound in his chest
that had taken him now to his permanent rest.
His oldest had held him while his wife pushed the knife
with one swift movement they snuffed out his life.
Hating this man for the things he had done
ashamed to be known as his wife and his son.
No one else knew what happened that night,
everyone thought he was killed in a fight.
Could the subconscious erase the hard fact
of a mother and son and their murderous act?
The greatest of motives just can’t justify
the death of a father and a hideous lie.
Guilt could be seen on the face of the boy
he didn’t share in her freedom and joy.
It took four days for the boy to repent
and face up to the woman he’d grown to resent.
His hands wet with fear he opened the door,
he pulled the steel trigger and she fell to the floor.
He waited a moment his mind filled with pain,
put the gun to his head and pulled it again.
Two more plots in the cold damp ground
as the fear of truth makes a deafening sound.