Smashing the pumpkins all down the street.
As he rolled her along as her head, he did beat.
She was not a pumpkin.
She was the one who dared, the one who fatally believed he cared.
Her head was on fire as he took out his ire.
Rolled down the street.
Rocking and rolling.
A flash of blood red, as loves nearly dead.
She snatched her last breath, just before death.
He'd said, never again could her hurt her.
Nor would he hurt her.
Blurted out, "I'm sorry doll."
As the bells that summoned death did toll.
Poor lass, she'd believed that his words would ring true.
Never more  would he leave her black and blue.
And she believed him yet again.
As she laid there rolling in the drain.
In pain, in pain of death.
No fear was even seen in her eyes, as her pupils internally sensed that she'd died.
(c) Livvi