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She was a girl, showered with them all,
The family, the friends the home..
Yet all her days... she felt,
Like a wilted Rose
In season fall.

On the surface,
A picture of perfection was reflected,
but her core hid all the thrones,
thrones of an ugly past...
That emerged with every new dawn.

She hoped a new sun would heal her wound,
A wound her loved ones never seemed to see...
A wound of stolen innocence
A pain of a remorseful child
A victim of fake glee.

At a very young age she was forced to realize,
That life is just a filthy mirage,
Truth had scarred across her soft face,
Leaving her with tears of shame..
and endless whispers of a haunting disgrace.

Nobody ever touched her frightened heart,
She was a million pieces of shattered parts,
That desperately cried for a hand..
To solve her riddle.

No matter how much she screamed,
All she heard back..
Where the echoes of her past.

All she needs is a sprinkle of dew,
a sun ray
a delicate breeze
...................

and a hand that shall join

her lost piece

"Innocence"