It could have been your sister, your cousin, or your mother.
She had been beaten so grossly you couldn't tell her eye from the sore purple bloody bump on her face.
A hate crime they called it.
It wasn't a hate crime. It was abuse.
He killed her. He beat her up so good after he caught her dancing with another man.
When he saw how happy she was it killed him inside. It could have been him if he wasn't so damn miserable.
She left him because all he did was complain. It left him bitterly upset and when he saw her, with him- it practically killed him.
He, "didn't know what he was doing" when he beat her deadly.
He, "didn't know what he did," was what he said in court.
I, "don't know why," he said in prison.
I "didn't mean too," he said at the gate.
He rots in hell now
