The Victim

November 21, 2010
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Ironic how the streetlight shines
Red, before her closed blue eyes
And how her body feels like stone
It’s strange how she is not alone

Believed did she that darkness come
And from it cast her thoughts all numb
But rather now she lay alive
Incased inside her own demise

And as he glanced from left to right
Tossed her body from the light
Did she hear a siren roar
Past the grave she did now know

While in her sodden state did she
Give to the stars a single plea
That they will not the man condone
And, for her family, let truth be known.

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