The Nigt Before Death

'Twas the night before Christmas
and no one was home.
There was a girl in the corner
afraid and alone.

Curled up on the ground,
her arms held her tight.
There was no one around,
no parents in sight.

Her eyes filled with tears.
Her heart full of shame.
A note on the floor
said she was to blame.

"Your purpose in life
was only to serve.
Why should you get
what you never deserved?

You can never have
the love you desire,
for your best doesnt meet
the minimum thats required.

You think youre worthwhile.
Can you honestly not see?
Youre deserving of hate,
youre filled with disease.

So take it from us,
'cause youll never learn,
run far far away,
and never return."

She looked up at me.
"Santa, its all right.
I promise to make this
my last Christmas night."

This poor little girl,
with no one who cared.
She was cold and alone,
and looked terribly scared.

I asked her her name,
but she had no reply.
She was not scared,
nor was she shy.

She had gone her whole life,
mark my word true,
she was called by no name,
but by the simple word "you."

A sad little girl,
with no one at home,
had lived her whole life,
afraid and alone.

I had to leave that girl,
on that cold winter night.
I watched that broken house,
'till I flew out of sight.

Come Christmas again,
a year had gone past.
I saved that girls home,
to visit very last.

I called out for the girl,
but heard no reply.
I opened the door,
and tip-toed inside.

Splatters of blood,
painted the walls.
I followed the sound,
of her whimpering calls.

Her voice sounded broken,
her words became faint.
she pointed to a wall,
That was covered in paint.

"As I promised you, Santa,
one year has gone past,
I told you that Christmas
would be my very last."

With eyes wet with tears,
I went to her bed,
that poor little girl,
was lying there, dead.

She took her own life,
by slicing her veins.
Shes no longer alone,
that girl with no name.