Member Poem

He did an almost perfect job,
He still couldn’t hide it all,
All couldn’t be swept under the carpet,
Some fell out,
They were too obstinate to be cloaked,
They refused to stay under the sheets,
It was a hideous crime,
One that Karma couldn’t
wait to pass its judgement,
Nature beamed its searchlight,
It trailed the perpetrator.
Everywhere, inside and around,
Every meander and every straight road.

The evidence spoke,
It blew like a siren,
It made loud its voice,
It led to the culprit,
It caught up with him without fail,
It held him with chains and fetters,
The perpetrator's song was that of redemption,
But it was too late,
The axe had been wielded.
His misdeeds were his plaintiffs,
For tomorrow is sure to reward today’s deeds,
Its periscope peers miles into the past.