Broken Girls

The porcelain is cold against my white translucent cheek.

The water is growing murky and my body is growing weak.

The crimson clouds around me, stealing smiles at it swirls.

My mind can’t help but wander to other helpless little girls.

The girls also touched my life’s ever hateful palm.

Whose loved ones looked on uncaring as she struggled to stay calm.

Girls who stare into the mirror and see a stranger looking back.

Eyes no longer blue, green, or brown but bleak familiar black.

God! Help these girls, I pray, let them find some life again.

Allow them joy, grant them love and a chance to reach Heaven.