The Stalker

She looked demure as she came on board

And sat in a corner seat,

And Paul looked up from his paper as

She crossed her legs in the heat,

The blouse she wore had a bunch of lace,

Her skirt rose over the knee,

And a length of thigh had caught his eye

As the train had gathered speed.

 

‘Some girls were there for the taking,’

Paul had thought, and he shook his head,

They weren’t alive to the dangers that

Their wiser mothers would dread,

So many girls were assaulted

On the track that led to the train,

They needed a good Samaritan;

Outside, it started to rain.

 

A man came into the carriage

Sat across on the other aisle,

He tried to catch her attention with

Some twisted sort of a smile,

He made a pointed remark, at which

She scowled, but made no reply,

But Paul sat watching and listening

To the man with the evil eye.

 

The girl stood up as the train pulled in

To the village of Little Cross,

And the man got ready to leave the train

But waited, ‘til she’d got off,

So Paul jumped up on a whim, and thought

To follow, and keep her safe,

He’d keep his eye on this other guy

Be there for her, just in case.

 

The track led over some common land

Then wandered into a wood,

The girl ploughed on, didn’t look back

Though Paul had thought that she should,

The man took off on a side track then

And soon was lost to his view,

Where the ground was covered with thickets

Sparkling still with the morning dew.

 

The girl had vanished ahead of him

Round a bend in the beaten track,

Paul was hurrying after her

When he heard a sound at his back,

He turned and he saw the girl approach

And knew that he was in strife,

For glittering in her hand he saw

The long curved blade of a knife.

 

She stabbed him once, she stabbed him twice

She stabbed him a dozen times,

She snarled, ‘Is this what you wanted, No?

Well isn’t that a surprise!’

He toppled back as she scythed at him

And tried to catch at his breath,

The words, ‘I thought to protect you,’

Left unsaid, in the throes of death.

 

They took his wallet, they took his ring

As his blue eyes glazed at the sky,

‘He thought that I was the stalker,’ grinned

The man with the evil eye,

She turned to him an excited smile

And murmured, ‘Gee, that was fun!

Let’s take the train to the Junction, Joe,

And get us another one!’

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[spiritwind]

Not a kind-hearted tale, my friend, but one that does play out all around the world in different ways. Not as colorful or as lurid but there are the scams that rape good people of their hard-earned money and the marriages that rob people of their dignity and soul and the political leaders who disguise the truth to further their own aims... Well, gee, thanks, Mr. Paget, for throwing reality into our pixilated faces...

[David Scott]

No good deed goes unpunished! Wow. What a way to say it though...
Loved it! One of my favorites topically.

[Marie]

No good deed goes unpunished, does it. Yet I think Paul did the right thing. He died having good karma on his side, unlike those who preyed on him.

[minisla]

set up. yet another enjoyable poem.

[Valentine]

David..meanie....why is it that so many do gooders end up in trouble..For that matter..why do younge women try to expose so much of their bodies unless they are seeking the attention of a man..then when they get it..the often call rape..Sick world on both sides isn't it..You tricked me on this one...love you and God bless..kathie

[Clayton Bardwell]

Let no good deed go unpunished!