Today I saw a notification from simonesaidwhat and it was a book recommendation, turnpike. I checked it out. It was a master piece. It inspired this.
She was 16, tired and with bruises.
It was 10 : 30, cold rain
But at least she was alive.
Too many people had asked why?
Why? Why?
She just couldn't leave
You would blame her
Attempt to fill her with self esteem.
But she is not you,
The one with the esteem.
With the hope,faith and love.
Even if she wanted to.
There isn't much to do.
He'll make it out
But would his next victim?
She just prayed it wasn't her.
She could move on
Start a fresh.
But she always went back
Leaving and returning
With less of herself.
It was a crossroads,
Something she could only wish to do.
She was 16, tired and with bruises.
It was 10 : 30, cold rain
But at least she was alive.
