A Friend of Mine Was Murdered

A friend of mine was murdered.
Her husband planned it out.
Not her husband really, it was only her ex.
He planned it so that friends of his,
would be the first to respond.
He sat there over her body.
And smoked a cigarette.
Waiting for his friends to come.
So he could surrender to them.
Hand them the gun.
He had planned it all for months.
Making sure of every detail.
Parking a few blocks away.
Hiding in her garage.
He thought the claim, "Crime of Passion"
would let him fly free for his deeds.
Instead he is sentenced to life in prison,
but it won't bring her smile back to me.

At first, I sat in stunned silence, not wanting it to be true.
Then I grew restless, knew just what I had to do.
I would tell the world of her light,
cut down in it's prime.
I would fight the urge to hurl.
I would create a petition and get everyone to sign.
One to demand that those we trust, to serve the public good,
Are scrutinized with a microscope,
found to be free from hate and incapable of lies.

Then I found my way into the dark heart of her mate,
I hated myself for his rage, disgusted by our inhumanity.
I felt compassion for this weak and deranged creature,
who shot the object of his desire. Unable to see her truly.
Unable to fathom her depths, ignorant of her true worth.

I waxed and waned between wanting him tortured, killed,
and forgiving his senseless act.
No punishment can change the horrible loss of love that's felt
by all who know her name.
There remains an emptiness inside of me that "life in prison" cannot fill.
I only hope that in good time, her killer will regain, the part of himself that
went away when he stopped seeing someone there, behind the image that he made,
Upon which he leveled his cold dark stare.

It would be odd I guess, if I didn't tell the rest.
It's not the only love I've lost to husbands that were deranged.
Not the one I loved the most, I loved her just the same.
For all the ladies killed by men,
I pray and beg and boast,
that some good men are out here still.
So don't give up the ghost.

Ladies, you deserve respect.
Don't tangle with those boys,
who treat you like an object,
like one of their little toys,
and don't you let them tell you things
that put questions in your mind.
Boys will always be a waste of time.
Search until you find a man, who will stand up to the boys
and take you in his loving arms and feel and share your joys.