The Cruel Ones Poem by Shaun Cronick

Ssshh!
Never,
Speak ill of them.
It'll be already too late.
For they don't miss a thing.
They see and hear everything.
Nothing,
Goes un-noticed by them.
Even sign language.
Or any language for that matter.
They don't speak many tongues.
They speak ALL tongues.
They spared some.
Some who lived.
Lived to regret it.
Never,
To be the same again.
And they relish in what they do.
And they'll take you in mid blink of an eye.
And always in day-light.
When you feel and think you're safe.
They are unstoppable.
Unkillable.
Immortal.
Forever seeing.
Forever listening.
Forever here.
And forever cruel.