They ripped her to pieces
on the lawn of
someone she trusted,
two who had no business
anywhere near her.
How cruel, the fate of onlookers,
safe, but helpless behind a fence,
watching without physical
form.
Defenders from all corners rushed,
one wielding a baseball bat,
striking far more deadly a pose
than any seen from
the pitcher’s mound,
shouting a declaration
with such conviction,
I believed her.
A voice stopped the world
from turning,
wordlessly
conveying an emotion,
so unmistakably maternal,
as they handed the small
body back
to her worried mother.
They will tell you this is life,
that violence is a part of nature,
and so is death.
They only say it because
this did not happen to them.