From the courtyard far below
We all heard the woman scream.
Faces at the windows saw
The masked assailant stake his prey.
“Stop that”, someone shouted down.
but none went to the woman’s aide.
Not even did we call police
while she still might have been saved.
She screamed for help but no help came,
Her hands bled from defensive wounds.
Her killer made a final ******
And she folded in a swoon.
He grabbed her purse which was the prize
And left her in the courtyard, dead
Her name was Kitty Genovese
A pretty girl, the tabloids said.
A moment in a City’s life-
Not a source of civic pride
Glad she was not a child of mine
Did you watch the night that Kitty died?
Nov 25, 2011
Nov 25, 2011 at 1:19 PM UTC
From the courtyard far below
We all heard the woman scream.
Faces at the windows saw
The masked assailant stake his prey.
“Stop that”, someone shouted down.
but none went to the woman’s aide.
Not even did we call police
while she still might have been saved.
She screamed for help but no help came,
Her hands bled from defensive wounds.
Her killer made a final ******
And she folded in a swoon.
He grabbed her purse which was the prize
And left her in the courtyard, dead
Her name was Kitty Genovese
A pretty girl, the tabloids said.
A moment in a City’s life-
Not a source of civic pride
Glad she was not a child of mine
Did you watch the night that Kitty died?
The ****** of Kitty Genovese, the nadir of civility in New York City of the 1960's
Request permission to use this poem