I thought I’d go with a Pleiades for Day Seven. It’s a seven line, one stanza poem formed by Craig Tigerman. The first word of each line has to start with the same letter as the title.
Trueman was the trusted sort.
Trusted till the noose crept round his neck.
Turns out his sister weren’t no blood,
tart had sweet-talked him for plans.
Told all the secrets she’d pulled free
to spies and official men.
Trueman was the trusted sort. Now Trueman’s dead.