At night, one young man crept outside,

To take a sneaky peak.

He watched a young woman, 

Sitting on the balcony, looking like a delicate antique.

The woman with her perfect face, 

Gave him a cheeky stare,

As he watched her with little grace,

When she escaped down the stairs.

So, the man left and walked about the town.

Wondering how he could have such bad luck, 

With his wife, who looked like a very ugly clown!

Unlike his best friend’s wife, that made him a schmuck.

He went back to bed that night, 

Wanting to weep,

With his wife already next to him, fast asleep.

“Oh, why,” he thought, “could she not just die in her beauty sleep?”

Each night, the man went out in search of his mysterious lover, 

Finally, one night, he saw her at a great height.

As he looked around to find some cover,

Then he saw his best friend look at his wife with delight.

She was lying on her bed, you see,

As silent as a dove, 

Then she saw her husband come in,

And they began to make sweet love.

Silently, the man walked home that night,

His face in quite a trance 

I must kill my wife tonight,

Or else that girl and I will have no chance.

Quickly, the man walked into his home,

And saw his wife all alone,

She was lying on their bed, half asleep,

Waiting for her husband to caress her in her sleep,

Silently, he took a knife in his hand,

And slit his wife’s throat, watching her blood fall to the ground,

Then his best friend appeared looking offhand,

Asking why on earth he wasn’t making a sound.

The man backed up into the corner,

Realizing that his best friend had come to warn her,

They both loved each other’s partners, you see, 

Until that night when they both committed first-degree murder.

This was written by our contributing writer, Shanai Besst.