The white girl.

Never noticed how pale she was,
until that very day.
When she sat upon the swing,
she gently began to sway.

Telling me about her past,
how she had lived her life.
She told me how her parents,
had caused her so much strife.

As I sat and listened,
I couldn't help but stare.
Her skin, it had no colour,
In her eyes not a flare.

She told me how they'd hit her,
even broke her arm.
How could her parents be so cruel,
Relish in causing her harm.

My eye's they felt now so teary,
As so far, for her life wasn't good,
The little girl looked yet so tiny,
her parents had starved her of food.

I asked if she still lived at home now,
her head tilted down to the floor,
Its okay no one can hurt me,
In hell, I live there no more.

I asked " why so sad your reaction,
happy is what you should be",
"Well my home is much different than others,
Its a place called heaven you see".

The hairs on my skin stood so tall now,
I stood from the swing where I'd been.
How could I've been so stupid,
Around her I'd felt so serene.

My mum called and said "time for dinner",
As I looked round and told her "alright".
As I stared at the swing that lay empty,
Where the little girl had sat all in white.

**Written for a contest**