On December the fifth, a cold winters night
A scream was heard from a horrid fight
A shot rang out, and then silence hung in the air
Just like the sirens that followed there
They flew to the site with in a hurried pace
But the criminal had left that awful place
And left the girl with the crimson hair
Bloodied and battered dieing there
She took her last breath as the blue suits came
Stuttering out like a winded flame
The police took there time telling the loved ones
But forgot the boy who loved her tons
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem