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A lover spurned,
A lover burned,
  Into a killer
He has turned.
Vengeance sweet,
A one way street;
  Find the means,
The ends will meet.
Monday morn
And mom’s forlorn,
  Her daughter’s gone,
She’s on the horn.
Calls the cops,
The hammer drops,
  Says she thinks
She’s left with pops.
Abducted he,
The daughter she
  Had born her ex,
Then with her flee.
While she reports,
The ex transports
  Their daughter eight,
To last resorts.
Rents a plane,
A Cessna plain;
  A lover spurned,
He’s gone insane.
In seat belt wrap,
The child’s lap,
  The Cessna’s wings
Begin to flap.
Above he flies,
The in-law eyes;
  Into their house
He flies and dies.
On the wings
Of loving things,
  Despair with hope  
In chorus sings.
Published inPoetry

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