(This is a fictional poem)

I've got third degree burns because I've been scorched.
Nearly all of my body has been burned by a blow torch.
Three men did this to me and I'm racked with pain.
They dumped me in this field and it's starting to rain.
This cool rain is making my skin feel a little better.
I hope it starts raining harder so I'll get even wetter.
My fiance's dad was the one who hired those men.
I'll probably die because of these burns on my skin.
I'm screaming and begging for help but nobody can hear me.
I'm very angry because my fiance's dad may get off scott free.
I'm crying because tomorrow I may not be alive.
I'll put those bastards under the jail if I survive.
I'm miserable because things won't be like they were before.
Even if I survive, my fiance probably won't love me anymore.