Once upon a time there was a sweet little girl,
Who sung so high in her own little world.
Her drunkard father came to after a vomit,
Angered by her voice he locked her in a closet.
In vain she cried for days and days.
Famished and weak the dark became a haze.
Outside the door, her father chortled with his drink.
Her mother drowned dead in the kitchen sink.
She had nothing to do but explore the shadows,
Reaching into it she revealed a knife of battles.
Bored, she let the silver tip kiss her palms,
It ran blood red streaks down her face and arms.
Time too long passed and her blood was shed,
The moth-eaten carpet becoming a death bed.
Her tiny lashes fluttered closed and hid the light,
Slowly the tiny person became null of life.
A few years later the door was twisted open,
3 burly police stood over her, no words spoken.
2 dead bodies, they said, looking over at the bed,
The furniture was charred, her dad burned dead.
You can still hear her singing they always say,
Whenever somebody comes over to stay.
Her songs are a warning, crisp and clear,
To run away from her Father, drunken by beer.
Well hello there!! Long time no poetry, huh? Thanks for reading, vote and comment if you like????? Please???????
~Sheep Grl
YOU ARE READING
Eternally Silenced
PoetryPoetry about love, darkness, tears and the paranormal. A dark look on life using music and words. Words can never be silenced... ... Only the human voice.
