People called her names,
And boys played with her heart like a string of games.
But don't let this information fool you.
She could still be herself if she wanted to.
Somedays she could try on her dresses like when she was a little girl,
And she could stand in front of her mirror to watch herself twirl.
Even though she had gotten older,
And thought that years going by had destroyed her,
She was wrong; she could still be sweet.
She still left a footprint with each of her feet.
She could still make herself crack that contagious smile.
And her being on this Earth was worthwhile.
But because of the names
And the games,
She didn't see that.
She just thought she was being walked on more than a dirty door mat.
She was lost, and people didn't realize
That words hurt.
YOU ARE READING
Come In For A Bite
PoetryMy mind is like a poisoned apple. From a simple glance, everything seems fine. But once you taste it, it becomes a whole different story. . . . Highest Ranking: [#66 in Poetry]
