The Devil's Little Angel Poem by Ana Schatzmann

A happy, colorful young lady that joked around with everyone and enjoyed life to its fullest.
This is how I remember her.
But times change, people change.
Now she's heartbroken, lost in a world that doesn't exist,
smoking the pain away, getting higher than the atmosphere.
She stays up all night, watching the blood drop on the bathroom floor.

My precious little girl, what have they done to you?
Oh tell me, how can I get you back?
Can I get you back?
Or is it too late?