The ******; sheepishly not innocent,
bound for another attack yet restrained by their inner hawk.
Guilted by feelings that drown in the sea of the land,
visibly tortured by the wakes of man.
Tasseled, bodied, manipulated to their very core;
the ease of handing gifts when given, and receiving gifts when taken.
They prey upon the demise of those upcoming, new, untold
Assuring their stories to never be told.
One hand and it's all whipped away,
Either by cuffs or a scarecrow at bay.