The young girl Her hair in a wild swirl. The cement bench beneath her The past three hours just a blur. The freshly dug grave She was told to be brave. Her sister lay Six feet under The girls mind began to wander. "Who would miss me if I joined her? Which would they prefer?" That night her mind went wild Of course she had to be the foster child. She found some rope and put it to use The young girl made a noose.