It has been said that it is a man's world,often times it is.
I have heard of a girl,
A girl who lives in a journal.
I have heard of the little vibrant girl she used to be.
The apple of her Papa's eyes.
I have heard of her wretched uncle,
The one who visited at the dead of the night.
When her mama was deep asleep and couldn't hear her silent sobs.
I have heard of the woman she grew up to be,
A woman whose shadow of her past drove her to the darkest corners of her soul.
I have felt the bitterness she tried to draw in mara,
The very fight for her sanity she had lost.
I have heard of that night,
The chilly winter night.
When he promised to take the breathe out her mama and papa,
If she breathed a word to them.
I have heard of her desperate attempts to make everyone happy,
The village's wife material.
Her papa would swear on his daughters purity come morning.
I heard that she took a gulp of her Papa's liquid malathion,
The very one he uses for her Mama's Rose garden.
I heard by autumn off her sixteenth moon,
It was as if she never existed.
The girl who lives in a journal.
#bleeding hearts..
