The young girl

There once was a young girl
living in a house down a dusty dirt path
her front yard was four feet long
and shown dark in a moonlight bath

three miles out
until a neighbor could be found
the phone didnt always work
the bills were lost not found

patched jumper dresses
and shirts without a collar
socks worn in the toe
and shoes without any polish

the dirt on her cheeks
hides the bruises and the tears
her blonde curls matted down
her eyes filled with fears

she goes on each day
try to do everything right
who knows what will come
by the end of the night

she rides on the bus
filled with children her age
but no one dares
to talk to her or engage

her teachers notice
but they turn a blind eye
and so it only grows worse
and she cries each night

there once was a young girl
livin in a house down off a path
spent her whole life pretending
those scars were just a rash

as the girl grew up
her daddy just drank more
and some nights
she could barely move from the floor

now she washes her face
before she goes to school�
and covers the bruises with makeup
in a lav stall

her teachers still wonder
but still they dont ask
theyd rather pretend they dont see
than cause her more or take the risk

One day after school
her daddy came real late
the sun was already gone
and she was afraid of her fate

she opened the door
of the old Chevy truck
she could smell the booze
and she tried her luck-

she begged her daddy
got down on her knees
said daddy dont drive
let me do it please

but her daddy was enraged
and he answered with a his
and she got into the truck
and gave her cross necklace a kiss

all the way down the road
he let out his rage
she felt that the small truck
was just another cage

the next thing she knew
there was a sudden swerve
and the truck hit the edge
and was tossed over the curb

the little girls daddy lived-
now old and sobered p
he hasnt taken a drink
since that night in the truck

and once every year
on the reminder of that day
the old man walks down to the grave
to sit and pray

he sits by that stone
and cries as he reads;
there once was a young girl
livin down a dusty path