Under The Bridge

Under the bridge lies a broken child.
Her dreams have been shattered,
But now it does not seem to matter.
Storms caress her body in this wild.

Empty thoughts of harm spread openly.
Alone with her silent screams and loud tears.
Reality has stricken her with a sudden fear.
Nothing but pure love will comfort soulfully.

Tell me now why she has to abandon hope.
Almost there, sixteen…wait until your eighteenth.
It’s not that far along, back away from the brink.
Life is to suffer, but there must be a way to cope.

Under the bridge she lies covered in the mud.
To bother, the dirt does not, for she is unclean.
The world is careless because it is cruel and mean.
She’s drenched from the rain, her tears, and her blood.

Poor child cries of crimson to end her suffering.
The desire of death runs through her hands
That grasp the knife tightly because it understands.
Does she not know this will solve nothing?

Ahhh yes…I’m ending with a question for you to decide this girl’s fate. I couldn’t decide if she should die or be some odd miracle. So I am leaving this poem unfinished until I find the answer for darling fate.