Write a poem about a murder from the pov of an egg on the kitchen counter
It happened one day,
Dreary, damp, and cold,
That I saw the crime of all crimes
While sitting atop the counter.

I was naught but a small, round, little thing
And the criminal paid me no heed.
But I saw the crime and if I had a mouth
I would spread the word.

He reached for the knife that sat beside me
And killed her with hardly a blink.
There was shouting and fighting beforehand
But then everything went silent.

I am naught but a small, round, little thing
So the criminal didn't think to hide from me.
But one day,
This egg will grow legs and a mouth
And I'll tell everyone what he did.