Pen-sieve Murder

INTRO:
This is something i've never tried before, but, hey! It's a working progress. The basic story line is, there has been a murder in London, 1843. A semi-corrupt, bumbling police officer is standing outside the place where it happened. A crowd gathers, and eventually a bribe is extended his way, which he takes without much thought or objection. He then proceeds to tell you about the facts of the murder,
and the mysterious rose which is left amidst the bloody scene....
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The year is 1843,
And I'm the police of Her Majesty,
Step aside, sir, if you please, there's nothing here to see.

You're standing on the cobbled street,
The scene of a crime,
is where we meet.

I'm standing guard here, sir, you see,
For within this building,
occured a tragedy.

The story of what took place within,
I cannot really state,
But I assure you, sir, it's nothing short of hate.

Excuse me ma'am!
Pardon me, sir!
Move on, you cannot stand here for long!

I'm on Her Majesty's service!
Victoria, Queen of England!
Ruler of the known world,
And you're standing in her cobbled street,
amidst a crime scene in which we meet!

What?! A bribe!
How dare you do that to me.
I don't say I take it, but I'll confiscate it from sight.

Ok, fine, now listen up, and be tight,
for the things i tell you are everything short of light,
and not pleasant, especially with a lady in sight.

'Twas abou' a-quatre-to-three,
In the early morning see,
when yonder building there'd a disturbance be.

Just what, remains a mystery,
Scotland Yard's finest are on it,
I assure all of ye.

But persons unknown had entered 'ere,
gotten in through the window,
where the late Mrs. Higgins lived, poor old dear.

She lived alone,
I notice you see,
(good detective work, sign up for the force, won't ye?)

We know not what they wanted,
they took nothing, that's assured,
Even left something - nothing's gone ignored.

So into the house this man - or woman - had gone,
Together with a torch,
which into the house they'd shone.

They found the lady,
asleep,
and murdered her most horrifically!

Her spleen was gone,
Her groin was removed,
the blood was astounding even for me!

Her eyeballs cut out,
with ghastly gore,
made a site which was properly sore.

It was murder, of that we are sure,
But just whom, or what and why,
we know not, we assure.

Yet the mystery is not over,
For upon the door they'd left a clover,
drawn in blood, all over.

But who's blood we don't know,
It wasn't Higgins' the doctors do show,
for upon the bed and floor hers had flowed.

It was most artistic too,
The four leaf clover upon the door,
in the blood of the killer maybe, but we're unsure.

Yet that's not all the killer left,
upon the scene which reeked of death,
a pretty thing they'd left the bereft.

Almost thoughtful, if you ask me,
a little note attached to a flower,
with the words "I'm sorry."

The rose was fine,
As bright red as the blood,
which was upon the bed.

A perfect rose,
so magnificent,
left upon the shoddy clothes.

The bloodied bed,
the bloodied floor,
the bloody clover upon the door,

the blood red rose,
the note written in blood,
for sure.

What can it mean?
We haven't a clue.
Who leaves flowers after doing what murderers do?

Now, move on, all of you!
The Inspector's here,
he'll know what to do.

The crowd disperses,
and so do you,
thinking thoughts of the murder...

When suddenly,
coming toward you,
a little shuffle..

comes unbidden,
unnoticed,
and is suddenly upon you...

And in the street,
just by your feet,
there's a magnificent flower,
left there within the hour,
quite red and grand,
a beutiful thing to see,
a long stalked deep red rose,
just near the bloody clover left upon a tree,
with a note written in blood,
"I'm so sorry."

A little crowd gathered,
and a policeman drew near,
"The law is here, never fear!
I'm on Her Majesty's service!
Victoria, Queen of England!
Ruler of the known world,
And you're standing in her cobbled street,
amidst a crime scene in which we meet......"

For, my friend who had drawn near,
you are now the victim...
and I he who did the ghastly deed,
through no nobler cause than need,
For you my friend have met your end,
through the writing of a pen.
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(c) Daniel J. Please feel free to comment and vote.