Whistle Crime

Whistle!

I was walking when I heard it,

with a small protest I flipped my hair and looked back

It was a low whistle and a few hooting

I couldn't help but feel fire burn

as I tried to hold in the anger

You know never know what lunatic

would Stand idle on the road

Just waiting,

Waiting to capture attractive

smooth silky skin and give some tender

sugar coated words only

Making her 

Insulted and lose the powerful beauty

Strength and Confidence

to think that he was the one

Next thing you know you are hit

Afraid and in hiding despair