Buried in the rubble of embarassment and shame,

exists a lonely girl

who wishes you not to know her name.

She weeps in silence,

afraid to face her sins,

not caring where she's going,

never thinking of where's she's been.

She doesn't hear the sounds that are calling

in the night,

as she hides within a corner,

completely out of sight.

Bundled in the darkness,

she rocks against the wall,

panic overwhelming her,

for she cannot see at all.

I've often tried to comfort her

and tell her she'll be fine,

but she screams at me repeatedly

and asks me why I lie?

She says I am to blame

for her feelings of disgrace,

that it was I who stole her goodness

to cover my own face.

She claims no one will ever love her,

because of the terrible things she's done,

so she cries her life has ended

even before it has begun.

I suppose maybe it's true,

since it was I who made mistakes;

I took a perfect little girl

and left wretchedness in her place.

So tragic is her tortured soul,

that is bound to crucifying chains,

that keeps her locked forever

in a past of decayed remains.

I once thought I caught her smiling,

but I believe it was only in a dream;

there was a man who touched a part of us

that she and I had never seen.

I know she still remembers him,

his image is captured in her eyes,

for the pleasure that he gave to her

has kept her hypnotized.

You see,

I understand her,

I know her better than the rest,

to me she is my favorite,

to me she is my best.

I never meant to harm her,

but I blindly crushed my child,

I tore her life apart from mine,

and made her free and wild.

You can still catch glimpses of her

every now and then,

just tell her that you love her,

and you'll always be her friend.

If you feel afraid to know her,

you really shouldn't be,

for the girl that I've been speaking of

is really only me.