Im the daughter of a well-to-do businessman
He remarried, of my stepmother, I was not a fan
My sister & I were popular, engaged in charitable work
I taught Sunday school to children, which was a perk
I had a religious upbringing with the local church
My father felt his good name I would one day besmirch
For I went on outings unaccompanied by a male escort
I am stubborn & independent was my retort
Thursday morning my older sister & father were gone
Father came home, while I was out on the lawn
When I came inside I saw father on the lounge dead
Later the maid found his wife on the floor by their bed
Both were struck in the head with a sharp axe
She got eighteen, while father received eleven whacks
I was arrested charged with their ****** but no trial
For the men believed a woman couldn’t fit the profile
I was found not guilty and inherited the house & fund
But by society my sister, Emma & I were still shunned
Many believe & accused me of Abby and fathers death
As I walk by they mumble & snicker under their breath
Some theories were my uncle Morse or the maid
That she was my lover, that Abby and Father were dismayed
Abby apparently caught us both, in the barn at the back
And forced me to become a horrible, murdering maniac
Could I, Lizzie Borden, a woman, be so depraved?
Well only I will know & the secret I will take to my grave.