It was just past twilight; she was driving slowly home.
Saw a car with hazards on, shining a vivid chrome.
Thinking someone needed help, she braked to a halt,
The urge to help others was her basic default.
As she approached the window, the door swung open -
Her body went stock still, her smile now frozen.
The silver of the car seemed to flash in his hands;
Then he took what he wanted; he made no demands.
The dewy grass was cold against her tear-stained cheek,
It was all she could do to remain still and meek.
She thought she had a chance of getting out half-whole,
A mistake to think he had even that much soul.
The ground wept bloody tears as it watched her depart -
The revving of the engine hid her slowing heart.
Her body illuminated by a glaring light,
Eyes dimming as her body bade a soft goodnight.
Memories, a flash, a blur – but she couldn’t be saved -
This saying on her mind, virtually engraved.
Her father was right, albeit cruel,
“Only death can cure a fool.”
| 
