Perfect Nothing

Running away, the pounding on the ground,
leaves crunching beneath my feet,
a branch snaps me in the back,
racing time, fleeing from my past.

The bruised little heart,
The lost little girl,
The perfect nothing.

All is quiet the wind so silent,
tears still fall, to the ground,
my back a little sore, my feet are tired,
racing time, not looking back.

Stuck little girl,
Spilling little tears,
Still, the perfect nothing.

Morning is bright, yet its dark,
no longer waiting to be saved,
the birds chirp, but to me its screeching,
racing time, running from the dark.

Poor little girl,
Pleas to be saved
Perfect nothing, she'll always be