He couldn't move as seasoned as he was
There was something in this one
That was too much for him

He had a daughter he hoped to live through
Four years old, ten years reach to this girl


Please let my girl go
Without knowing what I know
Don't let her read this day

On my face when I come home

Detective, take note of all you see

Like her hand still holding the smallest leaf
Her neck angled too far for her body
And her body's position at the base of this tree


He took measurements on a paper pad
Noted each bruise and abrasion

How could this happen to a girl so young?