The Villagers
The villagers look silently on.
What good would it do to interfere?
They watch the young man as he pleads for his life.
The policeman in the black mask reluctantly shakes his head.
He tightens the string that secures the man.
The villagers – mostly women – join in.
What good would it do to interfere?
They slowly pick up rocks.
And the projectiles are off, whizzing through the air.
One hits the poor man in his head, spurting blood.
The villagers cheer when the man is hit.
What good would it do to interfere?
Yet a young girl hides between her mother’s skirts.
She silently cries for the poor man.
These happenings would cease in her time.
The villagers break away from the little girl.
What good would it do to interfere?
She stands up, and walks to the front.
She shouts her dissent.
Rocks pelt down.
The villagers hit her as well.
What good would it do to interfere?
She falls next to the man.
Shallow breathing emerges.
Both hoping for more.
The villagers walk silently away.
What good had it done to interfere?
She should not have done it.
The child is dead.
And the police are happy.
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