When I was ten I looked back on my life.
Boy, what a mean and rotten kid I had become.
By age ten I recalled my first crime against girls.
I think I was nine when I used my slingshot.
An innocent little girl, probably six, was dressed in cotton.
My old cruiser was dark maroon, chipped, rusted, and ready.
She did not see me coming, and I rode close.
I loaded up a pea and pulled the rubber taut.
She rode her tricycle onto the sidewalk, and I fired.
It was like shooting an innocent victim in the back.