Everyone in life has witnessed a crime,
stood by and let it slide.
I say next time stand tall, and speak the truth,
don't be afraid of a face that haunts you.
Fear is the design, left in your mind,
stained images of a mad man out of line.
When fear is to blame, we need be ashamed,
for this evil that exists, is all but hit and miss.
Every day that goes by, another slaying inside,
a house on the corner, another family to mourn her.
The way we get around it, just misplace where we found it,
and get back to the days, where good things never change.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem