3A/N This poem is written in full verse and is meant to tell a story. There is one verse which I came up with 3 different ideas for: these are written in bold. Personally, I prefer the 3rd one, but please review and tell me which one you prefer, and why not let me know what you think of my poem while you're at it? Cheers.
"Childhood is not always so sweet."
She sits inside her bedroom,
her music on full bore,
So no-one can hear her crying,
a padlock on the door.
You'll never understand her,
Her soul she won't uncover.
She's like a movie with no title,
a book without a cover.
Her face remains expressionless,
her lips shan't bear a smile,
Her body appears lifeless,
her feet walk many miles.
She'll wear a lot of make-up,
She dyed her long hair black,
And expresses the hurt inside,
With the tattoos on her back.
But under this dark exterior,
is a girl misunderstood.
Her mum left her 5 years ago,
she'd kill her if she could.
After all, what kind of mum is she,
if she drinks Vodka all day?
And cannot get herself a job,
the rent she cannot pay…
She shoots herself with drugs,
has depraved sex with many men,
all to earn herself some money,
just to spend on booze again.
And you may ask "where is this girl,
whilst this is going on?"
with hands on ears, she's in the corner
whimpering a song.
Then finally when it's over,
the strange man has left and gone,
she goes in to check her mother
and finds the sheets are torn.
Her first thought was that she's sleeping,
then found that she'd passed out,
from the Vodka she'd been drinking,
and from being tossed about.
She approached the naked body,
Bruises blemished on its' face.
Beside the state her mum was in,
he'd left without a trace.
And so the young girl screamed,
"Why do you do this?!" to her mother
"You're fucking sick, you need some help,
you're pregnant with my brother!"
Oh yes, a baby brother,
the result of a one-night stand
and why she can't set up a life
This girl can't understand.
But of course she did not stir,
for she'd been knocked out cold.
with all the things this girl's been through,
you wouldn't know she's 10-year-old.
Maybe that's why mum drinks so much,
perhaps she's praying for a miscarriage,
because her baby'll be a bastard,
and won't be born in marriage,
Maybe that's why mum drinks so much,
she wants the child to die,
- free herself from responsibility
the more alcohol she canbuy.
Maybe that's why mum drinks so much,
she wants the child to die,
to kill the spawn of her addiction,
last remnant of her lie.
But on the pillowslip,
And right beside her head,
was a twenty dollar bill
the girl would use for food instead.
So she'd slip out through the alley,
whilst her mum was not awake.
and buy herself something to eat,
to soothe her stomachache.
It wasn't 'till she returned,
that the consequences came,
She ducked a bottled aimed at her head,
"You bitch, this 'aint a game!"
The stealing of the money,
earned her longest punishment,
locked inside her room to starve,
yet still bearing harassment.
Until there came a day,
when there was no sound at all.
Her mother had just 'up'ed and gone,
left the girl to take the fall…
Keep shooting herself with drugs,
Free herself from her delusions,
on a momentary high,
in a world full of illusions.
Though that high must always end,
ever crashing to reality,
in ever-increasing lows
which shall question her mortality.
Perhaps that's it? She prays for death?
Which no doubt, shall one day come,
though the lives that she's effected?
The damage has been done.