Crime

a poem my sister wrote

I have nothing. The price of jewels, of words,
of knowledge, of fancy things and pretty pictures.
None of that is important enough, surely, to
abandon on a life, too youngto fend for itself, to
so just that, with no knowledge of anything
beyond its own hunger and wants. Surely there
is no excusefor such a crime, Not even to save
its life, unless there were some other way. There
should never be made excuses for such foul play,
to leave someone so alone.
To leave a creature so alone.
To leave the child of a deamon so utterly alone.
And friendless
To be found by the hard-hearted humans, to be
treated like an animal, because she cannot speak.
Because no one taught her to.
So she must fend for herself.
Only she cannot eat what she hunts, for though she
can hunt it, and can rip and tear and shread.
She is too young.
And there is no one to love her.

*Why would anyone commit such a horrible crime?*