The poor girl sitting all alone, She lost herself and lost her home.
Of everything the devil stole. He took away her only soul.
She sits there thinking about her life. And why to end it with a knife.
She thinks of heaven and when she dies. She'll be in the fear of eternal cries.
Her parents died but she never cared. In the devil's eyes her parents stared.
They raised the girl to do the same, She hates the world and gives it shame.
The girl left the house and slammed the door. She only hoped for something more.
She walks alone among the lanes. And soon, she met a ruthless gang.
They promised her money and they promised her care. But this group too, has the devil's stare.
And as she's with them more and more. She joins the group and becomes a whore.
Everyday the drugs she does. Everyday with no because.
Still her life, no where in sight. And the book of the devil, she continues to write.
She was pregnant then, but killed her child. All because the men were vile.
A life of fear she intends to be. She now is crying making plea.
But she can't plea outside her head. For the gang will take her, rape her dead.
And now she's wondering what's this for, Being a shameful, wasteful whore.
She takes a kinfe up to her throat. And soon with blood her neck to coat.
and with the metalic taste inside her head. She thinks of life before she's dead.
The days of a little girl with no one to love. Being raped and to hell being shoved.
And as the blood trickles down her side. there's no one there asking why.
As people think of it more and more. She only a shameless, wasteless whore.
What's life living if all that's for? She died a shameful wasteful whore.

Copyright 2001 Joseph Michael Egan