...HE WAS THE MURDERER?
The boy glanced over at the clock,
Watching it. Tick tock tick tock
As the world ground to a halt as the others
Found a man dead amongst the leaves. The brothers
Backed away. Blame was painless
To leave on one of them; they'd never understand that they were blameless
Of the crime. He was excused from suspicion too.
Who, after all, would be the kind of man who
Would condemn a six-year-old child to a life
Behind bars? The knife
Presented itself, prepared
With fingerprints and blood. Those brothers shared
The pain as well as the cuffs.
He kicked off his scuffs
In favour of his small shoes.
If they never suspected him, what was there to lose?
Among the things I have discovered by writing of sins,
It's that plot bunnies enjoy eating out my shins.
Next Conan's Hint!: Heart Attack.