Man's Brutal Attack on Innocent Woman Uncovered
A man accused of murder, a vicious attack so bold, Denies the charge, but evidence does unfold.
In Suffolk's countryside, a tale unfolds,
Of Roy Barclay, with a story to be told.
He lived off-grid, on the run from the law,
For two years, with no fixed address, he'd draw.
Of Roy Barclay, with a story to be told.
He lived off-grid, on the run from the law,
For two years, with no fixed address, he'd draw.
He kicked and stamped, with a brutal might,
On Anita Rose, who walked her dog in the night.
Her belongings, he kept as a twisted delight,
A pink jacket, a trophy, to shine with all his might.
On Anita Rose, who walked her dog in the night.
Her belongings, he kept as a twisted delight,
A pink jacket, a trophy, to shine with all his might.
He'd search the internet, with a curious mind,
"How long does DNA last?" he'd leave behind.
But little did he know, his tracks would be found,
And his walking boots, the murder weapon, would be bound.
"How long does DNA last?" he'd leave behind.
But little did he know, his tracks would be found,
And his walking boots, the murder weapon, would be bound.
The jury heard the tale, of a brutal attack,
With kicks and stamps, and a fatal crack.
The prosecution's case, was one to abhor,
A cruel and vicious act, that would leave no more.
With kicks and stamps, and a fatal crack.
The prosecution's case, was one to abhor,
A cruel and vicious act, that would leave no more.
Ms Rose, a grandmother, with a loving heart,
Was taken from her family, a cruel work of art.
Her partner, Richard, called her that fateful night,
But she never answered, and her life took flight.
Was taken from her family, a cruel work of art.
Her partner, Richard, called her that fateful night,
But she never answered, and her life took flight.
The trial continues, with a story to be told,
Of a man on the run, with a heart of gold.
Or so it would seem, but the truth would unfold,
A cunning and resourceful man, with a story to be told.
Of a man on the run, with a heart of gold.
Or so it would seem, but the truth would unfold,
A cunning and resourceful man, with a story to be told.
His boots were the key, to the crime scene's clue,
A pattern of marks, that would point to him, it's true.
The jury would decide, on the evidence they'd see,
And the fate of Roy Barclay, would be sealed, you'll see.
A pattern of marks, that would point to him, it's true.
The jury would decide, on the evidence they'd see,
And the fate of Roy Barclay, would be sealed, you'll see.