by Remedios Dorio


From our window I saw,

How a young man was mauled and beaten,

By our neighbor that accused him a thief,

For picking up a bottle half-buried in the ground,

The bottle with it’s deposit of ten cents,

The young man thought a blessing for him,

But our neighbor was angry,

The neglected blessing was on his terrain.

He tied the young man liked a pig,

And I saw blood dripping from his body,

His screams of pains and for pity,

Like a dagger stabbed to my heart.


My father saw my tears and asked why,

I pitied the man I answered,

He’s a thief my father said,

He got what he deserved.

For a piece of bottle I reasoned out,

Even if it was something much more,

The neighbor have no right at all,

Taking the justice in himself hands,

He could turn the man to the police,

The police know what is right.

My father shook his head and said,

There’s more in life you don’t understand.


Yes, I am still a child,

But I know feelings have no age,

I hate our neighbor for his cruelty,

The police must come to rescue,

But again my father said to me,

No one could be sure and know,

The police maybe the same will do.

Go away from the window,

Stay out from things that hurts,

For hurts will destroy you,

Away from the window I wipe my tears,

Only crying nothing I can do.