A Cold Case

He saw her that night and then on the telivision, 

Found dead in her apartment; killed with precision,

Stabbed brutally, her shirt soaked with blood,

Decaying for three days, laying there abandoned.

Now the police and media swarm her house,

They smell blood in the water,

But they are all in the dark,

Still it is unknown who would commit such a brutal slaughter,

They avert their eyes; turn a blind eye to the horror.

Her name they register among the thousands of unsolved case files,

And on goes the search for any trail of evidence,

They put in ziplock bags broken pieces of glass and bloody knives,

They make statements in the media; hollow promises about giving the murderer a lifelong sentence,

But who do you punish when you can't find the culprit?

Months passed by , 

And it was declared a cold case,

They still couldn't find the culprit; no one to testify,

When there's no trail of evidence, what do you trace ?

Someone asked me the other day whether I'd seen the atrocity on the news,

How could I not?

I remember the sight of her blood on my hands,

I feel no remorse; I had nothing to lose,

They will never find my fingerprints on the knife,

They will never find who took her life,

Yes, I had watched the news,

I then put on a play of feigned sympathy,

It amuses me to watch them show pity,

But out of sight, out of mind, as they say .