Dirty Suits

I wrote a story

Of a man named Steve

Stuck in the past,

Stuck in love

With a girl named Marie.

He couldn’t save her

For nobody could,

Marie was bold

And Marie did what she would.

 

Marie fell in with a crowd of sorts

That robbed and killed for “the greater good”

Steve, the cop, said “Darling, please don’t.

You’re better than them.

I need you, don’t go!”

But Marie was in deep

And she was the seductress,

The key.

 

Steve followed her there,

On the dark musky night

Pulled up in his car

Armed with hat, suit, and gun.

Waited, and waited,

Until he saw someone.

“Sweetest Marie”

He mumbled with a sigh

And opened the door.

 

But alas, that poor chap,

He was too late to save her.

Marie was grabbed by the thief

With a gun jabbed against her jaw

Steve dropped his morals with his gun

For he couldn’t believe what he saw.

This man, so mad

Was willing to kill her,

But behind him, his leader

Rang out with a clatter

A bullet, a bang,

And shot right through them both.

 

Marie fell to the ground

On top of the man

Both bleeding, and stammering

Feigning perfect health.

“Marie!” Steve cried

And ran to his lady

Stroking her fair hair

Until the moment she passed.

 

“Who did this?! You monster!”

Steve shouted

When he saw some suits

Running down the street.

He chased them

And shot a few warning bullets

Until one landed on the back of the biggest suit himself.

He stumbled and fell

As Steve finally caught him

And saw his Sheriff’s face staring back

With his last final breaths

He muttered

“Stop looking, you fool.

This was the plan.

Marie was a distraction,

But she messed up and fell in love.”

 

Haunted by this mystery,

What was Steve to do?

He would never stop searching

Until he found out the truth.

 

Marie, my sweet love,

I’m still looking, for you.

 

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