Here’s an odd little story from the London Times. If you don’t want to click the link, I’ll post the crime-fighting poem too. (The police replaced the accused person’s name with XXXXX.)
“Street poet names race murder suspect on city’s lampposts
undefined”
“Now I will show how a few words can be made
As sharp and deadly as any bwoy’s blade
How running away will not you save
The truth is there like an open grave
A defenceless man is dead and his blood’s gone cold
But the story of his end is going to be told
You can run and run till your shoes wear thin
And hope that you’re safe, ’cos of the colour of your skin
Paul Kelly lies dead, and who held the knife?
It was you, XXXXX, we all saw take his life.
“The New Year was but a short hour old
When you and your mates were: Oh, so bold.
You put us to shame,
But we did the same.
It was black on white, so it must be right
It was you who said: “He had it coming that night.”
Then you ran away and we turned our backs.
You said we would be next if we breathed a word
We took in your threats that now sound absurd
So we closed our eyes And took in your lies
“Now your filth lies burning inside us like poison and guile.
But soon all the s***’s gonna come out, so prepare for a trial.
So where will you run when, at last, you face a brave man?
You gonna run once more through the streets, all a quiver?
Will wash yourself down in the deep, deep river?
“Yow, young XXXX, where you threw the knife,
Listen to what I say and take good heed:
You can wipe your bloody hands in the grass, till they bleed . . .
But you will never, never get them clean.
Anonymous
“Street poet names race murder suspect on city’s lampposts
undefined”
An anonymous poet has given vital clues to detectives investigating the murder of a father of two.Poetic justice?
Paul Kelly, 32, was stabbed to death in the early hours of New Year’s Day outside a pub in Bath. Police believe that as many as 20 people may have witnessed his stabbing, which followed an altercation inside the Longacre Tavern.
Dozens of copies of the poem, titled Running from Paul Kelly, have appeared in the past week on lampposts and bus stops near the scene of the murder.
[...]
“Now I will show how a few words can be made
As sharp and deadly as any bwoy’s blade
How running away will not you save
The truth is there like an open grave
A defenceless man is dead and his blood’s gone cold
But the story of his end is going to be told
You can run and run till your shoes wear thin
And hope that you’re safe, ’cos of the colour of your skin
Paul Kelly lies dead, and who held the knife?
It was you, XXXXX, we all saw take his life.
“The New Year was but a short hour old
When you and your mates were: Oh, so bold.
You put us to shame,
But we did the same.
It was black on white, so it must be right
It was you who said: “He had it coming that night.”
Then you ran away and we turned our backs.
You said we would be next if we breathed a word
We took in your threats that now sound absurd
So we closed our eyes And took in your lies
“Now your filth lies burning inside us like poison and guile.
But soon all the s***’s gonna come out, so prepare for a trial.
So where will you run when, at last, you face a brave man?
You gonna run once more through the streets, all a quiver?
Will wash yourself down in the deep, deep river?
“Yow, young XXXX, where you threw the knife,
Listen to what I say and take good heed:
You can wipe your bloody hands in the grass, till they bleed . . .
But you will never, never get them clean.
Anonymous
No comments:
Post a Comment