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There is a man on my street
Who gazes at her as she passes
His eyes are sharp, biting,
Cold talons that long to pry into
Where they do not belong.
She walks past without a sound,
For anything else would be unbefitting.
She smiles and keeps her head down
And tries to forget.
But I see the shaking in her hands
And the hotness in her face
And the cracking in her soul
As she walks alone through the crowded streets.
I believe in her.
I believe in her strength
And her courage
And her sheer power of will
And I know that one day that man will attack her again with his eyes
And she will fight back with her words, biting like bullets
And his looks that were once so deeply cutting
Will become dull and broken knives in a gunfight.