Poem #4
Little Girl
In her hands
She holds the key
From shadowy realms
She call to me.
She has the answers to the questions
That I'm afraid to ask
She knows the person I hide
Behind the mask.
She used to be so silent
Hidden in the depths
Now her screams
Haunt my dreams
Yet I refuse to hear.
A little girl with golden hair
A little girl with her painful stare
A little girl who holds the key
To the person who is me.
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