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mythie Nov 2017
There was a little girl,
Never seen, never heard,
Her heart ached,
Her vision blurred.

Hannah drank until dawn,
Her knuckles bruised and ******,
For a woman, she was brawn,
Oh, what an unlucky little girl.

She looked next to the sink, there were tablets,
Hoping to forget Hannah's abusive habits,
The little girl heard screams and shouts,
Her tears stung and she swallowed her doubts.

Crashing, crying and threats,
The little girl cries behind the door,
Hannah cannot pay her debts,
She looks next to the sink and finds her answer.

The little girl slashes her wrists,
Taking more tablets, this makes six.
The bruises will fade tomorrow,
Though, the blood continues to flow.

— The End —