Little Girl

Little girl grew up too fast, Childhood she had not.
Soft and quite, she watches the world,
Not knowing or caring what others do.
She hurts too much but never utters a word.
A close betrayal, close to her heart, sticking in her throat.
A quick wit born of teasing and torment.
Into her mind a quite voice whispering, "It's all right, things will get better."
Quite eyes watch the world, older than their years.
A wall so thick few could get past.
A strong mind, a stronger will, a bruised heart.
Little girl grew up too fast.
Childhood she had not.