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 Jan 2015 shannon
Jerard Phillips
Poor runaway girl

Packed bags in the corner by her table
Burnt out cigarette butts in the ashtray
Another day, another man, another broken dream
Another town, another time, another try

Always was daddy’s favourite little girl
Doe eyed, round cheeked, silent and touchable
He would never let any harm come to her
The apple of his eye, sweet as cherry pie

But at night there was a monster
In her most private place he would haunt her
Never good enough for others, only he wanted her
Silent words from silent lips, that’s he taught her

***** needles, high heels and red lipstick
Choice of an entire catalogue of monsters
Some rich, some loving, some loud, all looking for the same thing
Used and *****, abused and shake
New monster, same fate

Packed bags in the corner by her table
Burnt out cigarette butts in the ashtray
Another day, another man, another broken dream
Another town, another time, another try

— The End —