
Policeman’s Ball
The hall was dressed in gold and glass,
a night where sins could come to pass.
Laughter swirled like curling smoke,
whiskey burned with every joke.
The badges shone, the suits were pressed,
a room of law, of men well-dressed.
Yet in the glare of chandeliers,
there lurked the weight of unseen years.
A toast was raised, a case was closed,
a name was lost, a file deposed.
Justice danced on polished floors,
while ghosts still knocked on cellar doors.
And when the band began to play,
a shadow slipped, then walked away.
Through velvet dark and echoed calls—
the law still sways, but never falls.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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