Too Late Poem by Alyssa Baker

I had to listen to it.
I ran to see what was happening,

but I was too late.
I wasn’t there to protect him.

Mumbling roars crept through
the winding rooms of the jungle.
Stomping footsteps
shook every tree,
as if a creature was storming through.

There was a thump as his body hit,
crash, bang! against a wall.
Cornered by the beast,
the vulnerable boy stood.

Screams of disapproval, and, of
disappointment,
Seeped through the soil’s skin.
The animal was angry;
the boy was
not going to win.

Heart racing, my pulse pounding
beneath my skin.
Eyes and ears wide open,
taking everything in.

Legs running,
but where?
I did not know.
It was the sounds that led me,
to the war I sought.

A tourist stopped me,
and warned me in distress
but the boy was still trapped there.
The beast was
not at rest.

Standing dead still,
I saw,
mayhem,
chaos.

The beast had pounced,
what I found was just
remains.

I had to listen to it.
I ran to see what was happening.

But I was too late.

I wasn’t there to protect him.