Everytime, I knew, I would hear it again
Tires me to wonder if they'd ever stop even after the blood rain
Endured with a hand that contained a knife
It was their zest in life
After knowing and revelation, titled them as culprits
Time flew, stories forgotten and thrown in pits
What more could be done as some thought of spreading awareness too
How much and on what level is ask, and would that make the problem 'shoo'?
Well, awareness can be heard deftly
But applied only when our hearts attain it willingly.