Black stains on broken gla**
On the last day of November
Immerse beauty by the trail
Of the last scene I remember
A cry for help
A pair of drained eyes
Nowhere to turn
Unable to rise
A scenic verse
Of an old Rhyme
Justifying
The sinful crime
Time pa**es no longer by
No rest found in concrete soil
Image burned to my eyes
Black stains and skin to boil
Smoke forming a pillow dark
For the child to rest in silence
Black skin on bruised hand
Infant emerged of violence
A flower in full bloom
Cut by a fragment of gla**
In a heartbeat of truth