She should have been fine, Right school, good family, right color, But she was at the age when things go wrong.
She began to feel the weight Of weightless things And the need to be someone No one could be outside the cover of a magazine.
So the doubt crept in and Muddied her image in the mirror Then frustration took hold Because she couldn't reach a Place that never was Or ease the pain of that failure.
One bad day, the devil whispered Through the mouth of a boy who knew her pain In his hand a pill, he said, “It's cool, everybody does”.
But she heard through tortured adolescent thoughts “Here is peace, acceptance is here, belonging “.
And so she did and did And when she tried to turn away The whisper became a shout, then a command And the pill became a needle in her arm.
When money ran out, she started selling Pieces of her soul in backseats, or ***** hotels. The devil left her then, he had won. No more promises, no dreams, or hopes or even fears Only the need for something No one ever needed.
Her world became an illustration She maintained with just enough sense To keep her on the street, but It wasn't enough in the end.
Her mother found her in her bed Afterward the woman always said “She looked so peaceful and So young. “My little girl “.
Somewhere the devil whispered, “Peace” and laughed.
Love your kids enough to look closely at them. They need us in this crazy world.