About the Poem
This poem is about the unfortunate loss of innocence when a child dies. A mother watches her young child get beaten to death by gang members, feeling helpless and hopeless all at once.
|by Kara Chernushin Riccitelli|
|Bloody, broken, bruised, and branded,
Fractured ribs, the punch has landed.
Battered, wounded, twisted legs,
"Let me go!" the victim begs.
Now doubled over, spitting teeth,
His mother screams, consumed with grief.
Show no mercy, fight to death,
Till a broken body's all that's left.
There's no reason, none at all,
To cause this high-aimed youth to fall.
"Help me! Help me!" He gasps and cries,
But knows they'll beat him till he dies.
Pathetic soul left all alone,
Bloody face, shattered bones.
The mother wails, "It's not his time!"
They will pay for this vicious crime.
With no regret, remorse, or sorrow,
The gang will strike again tomorrow.
Now roses lie upon the grave,
Cherished friend we could not save.
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