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The Murder of the Dictator

You walk down the stairs
Flower in your hair 
Dress pulled up tight 
So tight, you can’t breathe light 

A graceful stance 
A husband who you entrance 
It’s the only safe way 
To keep his demons at bay 

His greed just grows 
He never lets it show 
In these victorian times 
We must walk in a straight line 

Appearances matter 
No one wishes for their lives to shatter 
Desires are caged in
With a well practised grin 

I work like a slave 
Until the bitter end of each day 
He counts the gold coins 
Which serve his lustful loins 

He thinks he’s so clever 
Forcing me to work forever 
His violent tongue
So demonic, I sometimes have to run 

But one day 
I’ll go, far, far away 
For there is a treasure chest 
Which will help me to escape arrest 

Soon he will die 
I will stick a hairpin needle through his eye 
Deep into his brain 
Slowly he will go insane 

For sometimes murder is the only way 
The only way to keep these masquerading pimps at bay 
After I will rest 
It will take a while for me to digest 

Written Zoe Langman 24.07.2023 
A stripped floor

Stripped of Pleasure

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