Sore in the bones, she crawled out of bed
she sleeps on the ground, with no pillow for her head.
the sirens are sounding, it's time to find shelter
She gets to her feet, her visions a blur
the sounds of the bullets, and kills the silence of death
all those inocent souls which took their last breath.
YOU ARE READING
Little stories of a Girl
Poetrytake what you think when you see the word 'girl'. and then take the word 'different'. because every 'girl' is 'different' to what you might think. and this is a story about those girls
