She found herself in the closet,
Where she once had been,
Her mother had beaten her,
Blamed her of comitting a sin,
Her jaded green eyes,
Both troubled and pleased,
Filled with horror and surprise,
Her mother would decieve,
She had become a monster,
A victim to her distress,
She was her mother's outlet,
To her never ending stress,
Her long frail fingernails,
Liked to curl up in a fist,
Beating her daughter senseless,
Her face in a derranged twist,
The bruises on her body,
A sign of her mother's rage,
She was a troubled book,
You could barely decipher a page,
There was a touch of bitterness in her heart,
A fire of hatred in her soul,
Rage had torn her apart,
She was no longer whole