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MillyAnne Birtch

Birmingham
Tuesday, April 7, 2009

No Notice.

All the times she cryed,
Nobody was looking out for her,
Nobody cared,
They treated her like rubbish,
Just scraped off the floor,
She was shouted at,
She was hit,
She was even bullied at school,
She had to keep her feelings inside,
All locked up in her little head,
Only young, Tell me she was,
She was only a little child,
School was her only hope,
And still she was hurt,
Now they all regret it,
Her little body buried in that grave,
The window was left open,
While her mother was screaming from downstairs,
Of the mess of the house,
And the neighbours constantly looking to her mothers books,
I hate you she was screaming,
Untill she dropped to the street,
She jumped out of the window,
Her beautiful long hair was scattered all over the floor,
Like a princess,
Set to sleep,
Her mother,
Who was still moaning didnt notice the fall,
Untill someone knocked on the door,
A policeman,
He asked,
Is this your daughter,
She ran over,
With her eyes filt with tears,
No! , she cryed,
My beatiful daughter,
Of couse she was only crying because she will have to stop the,
the ridiculous moaning,
the constant moaning,
the lack of love
and
the lack of hope,
Now that poor child,
is in heaven,
with all the angels she used to speak to,
in peace,
from,
danger, hurt and crying,
She was at peace for all enternity.
Amen.
MillyAnne Birtch
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