The meat cleaver left bent and bloody <br />on the floor next to her body; a psycho on the loose <br />without his medication and his mommy; kills his doctor. <br />Police theorize the mad killer knew his victims <br />and having planned to harm them, robbed them instead <br />to make it look like a lesser crime gone bad. <br />All of evidence suggests he is crazy; but we never know <br />until something like this happens to make us count the pieces… <br />No pun intended. <br />We are never as complete as when we fall apart. <br /> <br /> <br />2008 © T Sheridan<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/not-a-song-by-the-dave-clark-five-bits-and-pieces/
