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Oct 2014
To think of it was immortal
To dream of it was sin
And to want to live it was monstrous.
There was a fire when she was only three,and by then
Her mother was a crack *****, her father no where to be found. She moved from foster homes to foster homes and abuse was her only friend. She turned eighteen and the candle of love which she held ,burned out in the night.
She became what she was supposed to have been years ago:
Torn, worn , a miserable monster. Now she wanders down, a very lonely road, looking for another lover so she can have money for her home. A car stopped at her footsteps
And a faint smile curved on the man's lips
'Heya suga, how much is it for a sweet time?'
'Fifty is enough for the night'.
She got in and he turned of to be a cop.
She spent her last days in prison,no more in parking lots.
So as the ME stands over her, the assistance says,
'I hope she had closure' and covered her now while body.
Written by
Elizabeth Bleu
423
   Elizabeth Bleu
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