I watched the news and hoped for the best,
streets full of protesters, political unrest,

And then I saw you . . . Neda.

Just sixteen, but with a purpose and style,
Oh Neda, . . . we'll miss ,your youthful smile.

Shot through the heart, down on the ground,
in a moment of sadness, with friends all around,
You ask yourself finally, did I help out at all ?
As your blood stains the sidewalk and the tears start to fall.

Oh Neda . .oh Neda . .you've done a great deal,
you've shown that the cause is really so real,
As you died on the pavement, I died a bit too,
May you go on to heaven, it's waiting for you.

And may the movement continue with purpose and deed,
May your country recover, may your killing they heed.

You won't be forgotten, I promise you this,
your love for your country, your spirit they'll miss.

Oh Neda . .oh Neda . . thank you !

Please add on or post your take. It's a memory made.

I have since learned that she was twenty-six, not sixteen.
To me, it really doesn't change anything.

Just my two cents worth.

That was truly amazing. I really like how you structure your poems and your pretty damn good at it too.

Keep it up!