Whithered

It was like any other day.

The cars were honking.

The children were shouting, playing.

Someone was doing their homework.

A mom was buying groceries.

A girl and a boy were chatting endlessly.

A small villa sat inside a quiet alley.

A woman was cooking some food for her son.

She didn't see the shadow approaching from behind.

She didn't see the blade in his hand.

She only saw darkness as the blade penetrated her back.

Outside the foggy window,

the leaves rustled.

And a single flower fell to the ground.

This poem is about: 
Our world

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