She runs her name across the window pane.
Some believed she went insane.
whimpering cries all through the night.
Lost in her own nightmarish fights.
They found her walking down the street.
Her hair pinned up, and blackish dirty feet.
She must of been walking for hours, because nothing came out of her mouth.
The way she was heading was down south.
They picked her frail thin body up from where she had laid.
In pain is what she was paid.
Nothing ever seems better in her tiny little world of make believe.
All she knew what to do was deceive.
If only someday she would believe.
©terrylin53
T