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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1818499-Poor-Little-Dear-One
by Kent
Rated: E · Poetry · Tragedy · #1818499
This poem is about the 4 year old girl who survived the massacre of her family in Indiana
Hide, hide poor little dear one in this corner
Don't come out, and please don't let someone see you
No matter what happens, you should not be seen
This is a game, we'll die, but you should live on

Four year old angel, at play at hide and seek
Her folks may soon die; she's hid in the attic
Sole witness to a looming tragic carnage
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear

And so the killer came and shot her grandpa
And then he also shot her lovely grandma
Slay and laid at full length, her mom and daddy
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear

As their blood gushed out in full troughs and channels
Their home was now a red river spume with rage
Poor little dear saw her dear ones gasp for air
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear

Late at night, poor little dear one went to sleep
She thought the morning would wake all up once more
O dear!  Could the dead ones ever rise at all?
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear!

State of 'in-die-and-ah' burnt like a desert
Lake full of tears can't put out flames of the heart
Killer(s)!  Not worth this life, must die!  They took lives 
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear!

Poor little dear was found by a former fireman
She's walking in a daze by her lonesome self
Her thumb in her mouth, waving to passers'by
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear!

Barefoot, wearing cotton over'alls, staring
Wind's on her pony'tails, speechless she's crying
Ask her age, and she shows her four small fingers
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear!

Death rays have taken the pure child to elsewhere
Her eyes are fixed at the empty space, so far
At this age, ruthless fate deals her ill fortune!
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear!

Cops are at her home and close in on all sides
Now the orphan child is safe and in safe hands
My grief would not cease till I yarned this sad song
Cruel justice, sin no more on poor little dear!


This is a game, we'll die, but you should live on!
Ruthless One, sin no more on poor little dear!
Is this a game? We'll die, but you should live on!
Mercy, sin no more on poor-little-dear one!




- Form & Style: Eleven syllable unrhyming trochaic quatrains with a refrain - plus a rephrased envoi.
© Copyright 2011 Kent (kentbayburt at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1818499-Poor-Little-Dear-One