by Jeremy Wayne Couch
They came and got the boy today--
carried him out, cold and grey.
His mother wept while in their house
his father slept.
Around one, she came out with a suitcase.
She got in her car and left
that death-smelling place.
"I suppose," the Doctor thought to himself,
"we won't hear any noises tonight.
Everything should be peaceful.
Everything should be quiet.
And if it's not, we won't care.
We'll shut off our senses
and pretend we're unaware.
You see, Honey, I have learned
that we do not concern ourselves
with what kind of a world this is.
We don't interfere.
We don't go near.
We stay over here
and hide
behind our fences."