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. |