I can’t get past the dreadful night, they tried to take away my life. Beaten down and left to thrive on a hard breath and a hope not to die. Two beast of coldness that just didn’t care, no sympathy or compassion to spare. I saw the blood and they did as well, it seemed as though I had been sent to hell. One crushed my face as the other kicked away, they left a story to read every day.

 They cheated me and robbed me of pride. How can I be told to take it in stride? Every emotion is running cold, I need to tell the story that has gone untold. The blood on his hands has scared me for life, noticeably worn and painfuly tried. I will walk with agony and strain, while he walks among you free and insane. Where is our dignity, moral and insight? Who is protecting the humble man’s right? Where would you turn if ever left to die? Would there be justice or just a poem left to write?

  For any victim left hanging in the line of justice.