Cherry Blossoms

The tale of a serial killer

His name was Harry

He was born in South Boston

It was in his hand

A cherry blossom

Lovely pink and white colors

Stained red by the blood

He was the third death

Brought to an end by a blade

That was dull, rusted

But this one was strange

Cherry always left wallets

So that we would know

Harry had nothing

No wallet, card or marking

To tell of his name

Cherry loved his art

Wanted it displayed for all

He set them with care

Harry had been burnt

Broken, beaten, cut and scarred

His death was not art

This was personal

Harry was someone he knew

Finally, a lead

I met with his friends

They were all so very sad

All except for one

He was frightened, scared

Nervous, looking at his girl

Though she was in shock

He wanted to say

'I know something, I did it!'

But he looked at her

She was my way in

The next day, we met alone

She told me her fears

He'd been out too late

She'd been scared he was cheating

But now, she was sure

She showed me their home

It was opulent, artistic

And then I saw it

A Cherry Blossom

Floating gently on the wind

It came from the back

There was a small tree

Cherry Blossoms were in bloom

I knew I had him

I had to get help

But first I needed her safe

Then the world went black

I woke up tied down

Bright lights poured into my view

Someone was with me

He stepped into sight

His face hidden by the light

But I knew him still

But something was wrong

His face didn't scream killer

He was so terrified

Then Cherry stepped in

And I knew my great mistake

Cherry was the girl

She wielded a knife

Rusted, dull and bent to Hell

Her eyes a cold shell

She held a mirror

Showed off the wall behind me

A cloth hung behind

The cloth was pure white

Black trees littered the canvas

With a great blue sun

A camera sat

Held on a tripod in front

And I saw the truth

I had been so right

She was clearly an artist

She had a new piece

I was to be it

Her newest subject for her work

I could see it now

I'd be found somewhere

Body posed, a vulgar sight

Displayed as her art

And they would find it

Lying in my lifeless hand

A Cherry Blossom

Author's Note

The story of a serial killer.

Reviews

[Solar]

Quite innovative that was, the way you wove the delicacy of the cherry blossom imagery with a cold-blooded serial killer with the shock ending - quite cinematic too!

[Jesse W.]

The coloration was something I tried very hard to capture in this poem, I'm glad that I did. I take it that's what you meant by 'quite cinematic.' Either way, thank you for the review and I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

[Solar]

In addition to the coloration within poetry, it could also play out as a scene in a film.

[Jesse W.]

Oh yes, that's why I chose such stark coloration, cause in my head it played like a film, specifically like Kill Bill Vol 1

[Solar]

ah ...I can see what you mean!