pretty pink bows tied
in her brown pigtailed hair
and everyone just cried
to show how much they care
for a girl who lives no longer
a girl sitting six feet under
but each stormy day she becomes a little bit stronger with every passing roll of thunder.
shwoing them her anger
and relinquishing her tears
she haunts every passing stranger
to show she never gave up her fears
and for every man out there today
every kidnapper, rapist, and murderer
she has but one thing to say -
never again even think to touch her.
by Brittany
This entry was posted
on Friday, August 17th, 2007 at 9:09 am and is filed under Death Poetry.
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