a pretty child, as pretty as could be.
blondest hair and
bluest eyes, this little girl of three.
and I would often see her play outside,
in a wagon, for a ride.
beautiful she would be when she's grown.
just the cutest
thing, as she played there all alone.
I only knew
from a passing wave or 'Hi.'
not want to
socialize, each time that I would try.
sometimes heard them
arguing, when I was in my yard.
I know the
people have, can sometimes make life hard.
just loners, because they kept to themselves.
am nosy, if I try to offer help.
never bother anyone,
the other neighbors say,
can only go out back to play.
see them come
and go, they never stay outside.
act like that, have they something to hide?
I heard them
arguing, much louder than before.
As I looked
little girl was standing by her door.
bruised, and tears were running down her cheek.
I wanted to
there, but I was scared and meek.
when the screaming
stopped and everything was calm,
I saw the
was being held close to her Mom.
back and forth, and she was crying too.
standing in the
back yard, there was nothing I could do.
was nothing I
could do, would be of any use.
little girl, were suffering abuse.
someone, and get this thing resolved,
But, it is
not my business,
and I cannot get involved.
spoke with neighbors,
about what went on next door,
is was sad, it's something we abhor.
something we must
overlook, we cannot interfere.
But, now we
different tune, as we are gathered here.
guilty, for we looked the other way,
Are we all
for being here today?
We feel the
the shame, because we all stood by,
now, we could
have helped, but didn't even try.
three year old, so beautiful to me,
funeral home is
quiet, because we all realize,
get involved, is right before our eyes.
is something we must all resent.
tool we have, to save our innocent.
by her dollies,
just the way she loved to be,
Is in a
with her body limp and frail.
Her Mom is
care, her Dad is now in jail.