I remember my best friend,
Her name was Jenna,
When I saw her for the first time in second grade,
She was tall, gorgeous and kissed by the sun.

She had straight A’s all through school,
We went to church together every Sunday,
Germany and Austria for mission trips.

She was a saint,
a good samaritan.

After she graduated, she went missing, ran off.
No note.
No phone call.
No goodbyes.

Two years later,her mom told me
Jenna had been found

There she was in a playboy
with her girlfriend.
sprawled across a spread
covered in tattoos
black ink, shouting names
of lovers.

She had drifted into an abyss,
too far away from her father's
teachings and her mother's love
and a childhood friend.