so much depends on
the little girl in the corner
her face wet with tears
her thumb silvered with saliva
she holds the key to our future
holds our past within her tiny fist
beaten down by an angry mother
she hides behind her closet door
wasting away like a puddle
drying up in the heat of the sun
do we not see her hallow eyes
not see the bruises on her arms
a fallen angel that keeps drifting
slys away until she can no longer be seen
so much depends on the little girl
laying almost lifeless in her cotton sheets
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