This Girl

September 23, 2011
A girl so utterly alone, So utterly friendless. She seems to have grown Quiter, calmer, wise.

I see her sitting cross-legged, A book or paper nearby. Her soul to be forever indebted To literature and soaring music.

She thinks no one cares, That no one understands, That no one cares how she fares This day or the next.

Why? She often cries, "Everyone I ever loved Left me!" She tries So hard to detach herself.

This girl is hardened by life, Her heart and soul shattered. This girl is me.

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