Her scooter was her mate
it was her constant pride
for it gave her wings
and always stood her side.
Until it broke down
that scary night
she watched it just lay still
with a flattened tyre.
She heard some howls
She saw some light
She thought 'Dogs'
And let out a sigh.
A woman full of love
for helpless four-legged beasts.
A life that tended
to wounded, ferocious beings.
She cured animals
She knew their kind ~
But those that approached
Were not her type.
The scooter stayed dead
as a warning sign
but she thought otherwise
she thought "they'd" revive.
Her screams faded
into the lonely night
and they took turns
to put out her fight.
Their thirst for blood
did not end between her legs
they even burnt her red
pleasuring themselves to her begs.
A body reduced to char
her perpetrators still at large
some media, some slogans
the usual paraphernalia.
Your scooter failed you once
and we - I've lost count
I only pray what happened
does not happen to me one night.
