At sixteen we laughed at the man on the street,
Calling you pretty too many times,
We smiled and dodged into our crowd of friends,
Then into a building where we could forget.

At eighteen you entered our house looking frightened,
Saying someone was following you,
He stopped causing (you) problems soon after,
But the question still hung on my lips.

At nineteen you told me what they did,
People you trusted only tying you up in a web of lies,
You silenced that question before I could ask,
And this time I understood.

You have a kinder heart than I,
You never asked for them to die,
No matter how many times they stole the life from you.

So, I will be a better person, too,
Instead of marking my hands in their blood,
I’ll find enough love to tend to yours.