She discerned a face in her neighbor's window
One day, the moment transitory, then the pale
Countenance was gone, a child, she mused to

Herself, must be someone's rare jewel,
Because they were such short seconds,
The reality of life's sad plight escaped her.

She did not see the toddler with the torture-
Filled eyes, she could not know of the savage
Beatings, the ugly welts, painting her

Defenseless body purple, her tiny torso, too,
Riddled with cruel burnt-holes.
She did not hear the relentless muffled screams

Of unendurable pain, four years old, and
Loving embraces were foreign to her.
Her little heart knew only rhythms of fear.

She glimpsed a mournful, crestfallen face in
Her neighbor's window, and turned away
For she did not know.