It started off with little lies until the rumour
grew like an onion you can peel, layer by layer
Still, you would not get back to the truth
Swollen, bloated bodies from nights in the river
Deadly nightshade found in their blood
Rope marks around the neck of one body
Had the sergeant scratching her head
Three bodies with different methods of death
The rope had been left dangling from Waterloo Bridge
No other weapon had been found
The body of a young girl in particular
Had sergeant Rose Wilson standing verklempt,
her words stolen from her
By the carnage that stained her eyes…
© Anita Dawes 2021
Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes 
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