Mannequin Phase

As they whisper the little girl's name

beneath her ear is a burning flame.

Boyfriends beyond what she can count

hits it, then they walk right out.

The town knows it, silently humored,

this tramp, pinpoint of humor.

The young girl who is never sober,

bringing home guys that are decades older.

Some aged enough to be called dad,

this child lies in bed, glad.

Believing that her actions will ricochet love

so she keeps on the world a constant shove.

Days withering as AIDs pulls in,

what more is she than walking sin?

Coming to realize at a time too late,

those men only looked to have a temporary mate

for the night, then go on as she was before,

on her deathbed, losing love once more.

But what is love more than blasphemy?

She thinks and realizes, "All I have left is me."

What had this girl really been looking for?

whatever she gained, she certainly lost more.

Now there is no time left to move on,

so she looks back, wishing it all gone.

Sometimes one is better off ignorant

of the evils causing humanity to slant.

Take it from this little lady wishing to go back

giving falsehoods a counterattack.

Those lies that branded a misguided heart,

no choice but to give up her own part.

Take in truth every word from this broken soul,

dying because of evils dark as unheated coals.