where nobody sees her pain.
Where her insecurities are her own,
No one cares to take them away.
Many times she has trusted,
too many times has she cried.
For the suffering still remains,
the suffering of a child.
A child without a childhood,
A child always alone..
Without peace, stripped of innocence,
The only playground within her soul.
She has finally turned to love,
To heal the pain inside.
That was inflicted by so many,
Who only saw her as a prize.
She was a prize to be won,
Used, abused and thrown away.
They discarded her the moment
They were done with their lustful play.
There she sat alone in darkness,
Waiting for someone to carry her away.
She still hides there in that corner,
Dying more and more each day...