The girl I see every now and then,
The same little girl that Cries everyday,
Her eyes, puffed and red,
there she lies waiting for her death.
She holds her hands out but not asking for food,
She asks for a gun,
The gun that can shoot her right though the head.
You can't speak to her,
Barley get near her.
Who's this girl waiting until the day.
How long will it take for every1 to realize,
this girl has only turned eight.
Only eight and her whole life
shes seen all the none sense.
Shes seen it all, believe it or not.
From the murdering to the abusing,
and all around,
If seeing it doesn't seem so bad, this girl has been through all those acts.
Yet I stare at her everyday,
I offer her a shoulder of mine where she can Begin to cry,
She tells me her past, she says it all,
How she had been replaced just because she lied.
I hug her tight,
I say its all going to be alright,
Although I know why she Cries,
This girl is only part of my life.
