Poetry

Repercussions.

There she stood, that solitary young girl
Unaware of what the world around her was
Unbeknownst to her, somewhere miles away
People were hatching plots to make her their prey.

That poor child, she was hardly eight
Why'd she had to succumb to fate?
So young of an age, with the world left to see,
Why couldn't they have let her be?

They were barbarians of the first order
Just for their petty fights across the border,
They now ravaged the life of that little lass,
And, we the audience, are just letting this act pass.

Alas, we say, we're helpless ourselves,
Unable to protect our little gnomes and elves,
Other than bidding farewell to another "India's daughter",
Goodbye, little angel, we promise, next time, we'll not let justice falter.