The Fight
bloody, broken, burised, and branded.
Fractured ribs, the punch has landed.
Battered, wounded, twisted legs,
"let me go!" the victem begs.
now doubled over, spitting teeth,
his mother screams, consumed with greif.
show no mercy, fight to death,
till a broken body's all thats left.
theres no reason none at all
to cause this high aimed youth to fall
help me help me he gasp and cries
but know they will beat him until he dies
pathetic soul left all alone
bloddy face, shattered bones
the mother wails its not his time
they will pay for this vicious crime
with no regrat remorse or sorrow
the gang will strike tomorrow
now roses lay upon the grave
cherriswhed frien we could not save
