Vigilante

under the cloak of secrecy
a young boy waits afraid;
the brilliant lights of cityscape
are blinding in the shade.

this month they came to kidnap him
and so he ran and fled:
a homeless child with nothing left
who lives his life in dread.

around corners they wait for him,
to capture him once more,
but still the boy eludes their grasp,
hiding beneath the floor.

his heart beats fast; his breath is quick;
their footsteps sound above
and though he's hidden well below,
he's seized by a black glove.

he finds himself in a dark room
that stinks of rotten meat
and when the bright lights reappear
he pukes on the concrete.

there bruised and broken sits his mom,
blood drying on her blouse,
her eyes don't open when he calls;
she's quiet as a mouse.

this pain helps him to realize
there's nothing he can do
so when he stands to fight the men
he wars with strength renewed.

i see him on the streets at night
battling those who wrong
a warrior with heart long lost
attempting to stay strong.