Little Grace

With a smug little smile,
On her smug little face,
Skipped away,
Poor little Grace.

She may have been smug,
Annoying and a bitch,
But what happened next,
She was found in a ditch.

He neck sliced open,
Her eyes wide in fear,
What was the last thing
You saw, my dear?

Was it a wolf man,
Covered in fur?
Was it a masked man?
Or simply a blur?

Was it a knife?
A dagger? A sword?
Was it the face of a beggar?
Or of a lord?

What was it,
Can you say?
Did you drop to
Your knees and pray?

Would your mother
Have been proud?
Would your father?
Did you scream aloud?

Tell us dead girl,
We'll find your killer.
Was it the butcher,
The baker, the miller?

Who killed you,
Little Grace.
Who put the fear
Upon your face?