The Black Dahlia
Renee Peyregne 1967 (Fayetteville, NC)
THE BLACK DAHLIA, 6.22.2021
Once again, she flowed down the hallway with ease
unsure of exactly where she was or what she sees
Confused and wondering if she should go or stay
No watch on her wrist and unsure of the time or day
She forced her mind to determine her name
Her mind could do nothing but place blame
He said that he loved her beauty and grace
Now she was stuck walking this strange place
She was searching for something, she must think
Her mind a cloud of fear, doubt, and drink
Did she know what had happened here
Her head swam with images of blood red fear
To meet her sister at the Biltmore on January nineth
Instead, she met a man that she could not decline
He was charming, handsome and promised the world
They cocktailed at the Crown giddy as a young girl
Winded and romantic he whispered her name
Elizabeth, he promised, I will ensure your ongoing fame
Your name will be in all the news, papers and books
Come with me to my room, intrigued she was hooked
The doctor carefully washed the dead body in the bath
Pushing her black hair away as he wiped her down with gas
He left only once to get some critical surgical tools
He left her side leaving warmth on the stool
Upon return with precision performed the hemicorporectomy
Sweating he admired his work and secured her destiny
He then took her down to the servant’s entrance
Careful to note that no servants were in attendance
Carefully into his sedan he Loaded her top then her bottom
He smiled, and thought to himself, should he be solemn
In the early morning light of January fifteenth, she was found
A lady and her son walked by and an alert she did sound
The Black Dahlia was born of a two-part Elizabeth Short
Newspapers saying, she prowled the Hollywood Boulevard
Police interviewed all the men that was in her address book
Combing the gas washed envelope sent for a news hook
Did anyone know the lipstick murders may have held a clue
So much time has passed, the color of her dress a faded hue
Unsolved it would remain but the promise is still the same
So famous he did make her just as he had so claimed
Forever her name will be on the lips of murder hunters
But if they only knew how to connect the numbers
Ms. Short still here wanting to tell her gruesome story
But holds back because the fame in death gives her glory
So now she just roams the halls of the Biltmore hotel
Watching for the chance to give the Doctor a farewell
For eternity she will wait for the man that made her famous
While the stories, books and movies of her death entertain us
About this poem
The unsolved murder of Elizabeth Short has always intrigued me.
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Written on June 22, 2021
Submitted by reneepeyregne on March 28, 2023
Modified on March 29, 2023
- 2:41 min read
- 3 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | X AABB CCDD EEXX FXXX CCXX FXXX CGHH IIJJ XXKK LLCX MMGG NNOO |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic hexameter |
Characters | 2,592 |
Words | 538 |
Stanzas | 13 |
Stanza Lengths | 1, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4, 4 |
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"The Black Dahlia" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 May 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/155155/the-black-dahlia>.
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