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Untimely Death
On the hard cement, she lay Her dark hair was matted, and her skin was grey At her side was a soulless shoe Her face, beaten black and blue Her clothes were very tattered and torn Everything about her looked well-worn, She was well known in this street Where she played the violin, so haunting and sweet Something did not feel right today She picked up her violin and started to play. Her violin was her best friend, Without this instrument, her life would end, She lost herself in the magic of the sound as her violin played to those who usually stood round Listening to her play But not today. The street was almost empty; hardly anyone was about, Which made her feel uneasy. And then she heard him shout, As she saw him coming towards her, she began to shake Where were the passers-by, for goodness sake? As the young lout got closer, he yelled. At her to play She lifted her violin, and the hoon snatched it away Waving it in the air and taunting her as he did, He said he would return it if she gave him a few quid I cannot show you any money; I have none to give. Said the terrified woman, who had to busker daily Because she had to eat to live. The hooligan felt defeated. No money was forthcoming, He tormented and bashed the woman in the face, She fell, and he started running He raced up the road, feeling no remorse How could he know his fate was sealed? Of course A police car turned the corner without noticing the lad There was an almighty screech of brakes The outcome was both unexpected and sad. The felon lay in the middle of the road, gasping for breath, He and the woman he murdered had an untimely death
Copyright © 2024 Shirley Hawkins. All Rights Reserved

Book: Reflection on the Important Things