Walking home from the train station at night,
I saw a man bashing a young girl,
She was screaming for help.
I picked up a brick from someone’s garden,
and smashed it over his head.
He fell to the ground.
The girl started screaming and ran away.
I stood there listening to this person cough.
This is the hand that slapped him in the face,
I was not going to let him rise.
This is the hand that has the will to punish.
These are the hands that prayed for his life,
These are the hands that wiped the blood off his cheek.
I sat in the gutter staring at the dead body.
I discovered something as old as human kind.
The will, and the need to punish.