death called ..... i wont be home

Death called I won’t be home.

Anna kreigal

Full of life she ran that day, friends called she went to play,

A mother knew while sat at home,

Usually she was home alone,

Gone to play, she felt appalled, no friend before had ever called,

Three days missing yet mother knew,

In a derelict place her body they threw,

And while one watched the other battered,

A beautiful soul who truly mattered,

Her life ended in a dismal place,

Unrecognisable behaviour a lifeless face,

And all the while a mother’s truth,

The friend called death, a daughter knew,

In two young lads it shaped its form,

Pray ye all this is not the norm,

As three young children went to play,

And two returned on that fateful day,

Truths emerge from media sources,

Pictures viewed, on phone devices,

May have turned one young lads brain,

Unseen by jury the judge refrained,

Still no excuse they planned and plotted,

A beautiful soul perhaps besotted,

Murdered by two false school friend’s,

So sad so hard, she met her end,

And yet three families mourn the loss,

Society at large should fear the cost,

As death called a young soul out to play,

Innocence destroyed, society will rue this day.