Sweet little girl
All dressed in white
Never had
the chance to fight
Her fate decided
Before her birth
That she should lay
beneath the earth
Her throat was slit
The blood poured down
It stained her throat,
it stained her gown
White began to
turn to red
And all too soon,
she was dead
Her lifeless body
lay on the floor
And then her soul
began to soar
At last she was free from the
chains that bound her
In that last, painful
final hour
Her family wept
Her lover cried
When they had learned
That she had died
She was not sorry
She was free
And that was all
that was meant to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem