Merciless Rain, Merciless Pain Poem by Joan Johnson

her complexion so fair,
this is the only way,
shoulder length hair,
Death is her favorite thing.

fire so hot,
burns away her pale colored skin
she is not in hell
for she could never sin

people laugh when she looks at them
they don't comfort her,
they don't know what they are doing to her
she could die, and they don't care

'Death for me' she whispers
as fire melts her hair
And Death heard her
and answered her one and only prayer

will she be forgotten?
will her soul be lost?
why does she have to pay such an unruly cost?
why can know one see
i'm not what i really look llike,
that she, SHE is really me.