The Accusation

Gentlemen of the jury, here I bring you now A man charged with murder; a fair trial he was allowed There is no doubt he is guilty, but I won’t jump the gun, won’t accuse I will just give you the facts, what happened, the info, the news. This happened last week, and the magnitude is great The error of his ways he will soon carry, feeling the burden of its weight This man before us, with his hood on and head down His ambiance is eerie; since he’s been here he has not made a sound Gentlemen of the jury, this is what I have found On Columbus circle, where Donald Trump’s hotel has its renown Up in room 82, it is a sight for sore eyes Where a lovely young girl met her demise No one was awake, and no one was passing by. For it was far too early in the morning, maybe around four or five. It’s saddening to think that maybe things could have changed If someone was walking the halls, maybe a maid cleaning a stain Gentlemen of the jury, the room was immoral and obscene There was blood from the bathroom to the kitchen, and everywhere in between Sheets torn, glass broken, cloths and possessions thrown around Severed limbs on the floor, it left me confound Now here is where things get unsettling, our information seemed deceiving There was no evidence of him even being there. Not even the cameras caught him entering or leaving How did we find him is a question you might ask. The answer is simple, and we found him fairly fast Gentlemen of the jury, where we went to was her family We asked if they had any information that will help is us with this tragedy. They told us she has a psycho boyfriend who lived near central park west So we went there with cops, some of NYPD’s best We broke down his door and there he was, sitting in front of her pictures And right next to him was the gloves and knife, still bloody, ironically resting upon an open bible scripture So we cuffed him, told him his rights, and there is nothing more to say And that brings us back now, to where we are today Gentlemen of the jury, I hope you have heard me well I think I know where your decisions are headed, but only time will tell Still bewilderingly quiet, I will ask the defendant one thing before I conclude. Do you oppose anything I have said, and speak up, don’t be rude” At last the man had looked up, his eyes they screamed one word, hostile His stare was cold and he looked at the plaintiff with a dark and creepy smile The room was silent with suspense and the plaintiff looked vexed Then the man finally said, “No, but somebody is going to be next”