You don't want to go in there, "
Is all the officer said, his face as pale as the dead
The ride-along saw white grow on his head
Hand on his clip, cold metal on his hip
Thinking of wasting that monster
Sat so close you could spit
This is no man. no man could do this
Heartless. gentle grace, met with violence
In this dark place, I feel your silence
Stared at the window on the right
Winter air and the fear of what was inside
Sent shivers down his spine
That flashing red light
The young man found comfort in the stars
Taking his mind off homicide
Walked up the path through the yard
The door stood ajar; he stepped hesitantly into the dark
Just then another ran past him, eyes wide
Hands clasped to his face
Shoved him into the wall as the first spray escaped
The remainder of the vomit planted in the garden
Pointed to the, "first door on the right. "
That same flashing red light
He gathered his courage
And tried not to think of what he was about to see
Tried to not visualize a child of three
Running into the first door on the right
Hoping to stop the fight
Red on the walls, red on the presents
Her angelic head, left blood and fragments
Red on the tree, red on her fleece
He put her down as she tried to flee

We are all given a chance to be free
"I will be better than my father before me! "
That little girl was his redeeming grace
The thing to help him forget the misery
Cause he was never shown it, he spat in its face
Now this brave young one lays cold
Planted under a tree, given no chance to grow old
(I feel it haunting me.)