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by EpithetPoet Dec 19, 2004 category : Sadness, depression / about death
Lone little girl Plays on the swing No one could even Hear her scream Body was found In the woods not far The culprit found Drunk in a bar Strangled and tortured Raped and abused The whole world knew How she was used Her eyes blank In life and death Her words sweet To the last breath Never complained For the life she had She still loved him He was her dad He touched and prodded Knew it was wrong Tried to fight He was too strong Grabbed a rock Smashed her head in Cantaloupe cracked Ran for gin Swings now rust Disappear away No one would go There to play