Little Girl

Behind her shields is a little girl,
still to young to know the truth.
Too youthful for her own good-
way to niave for keeping.

Underneath her feet and on top of her heart,
there is a petal, a bloody tulip.
Ripped down the middle when she yells.
Burnt to hell when she cries.

The dust on her skin, the white of her eyes.
The stark of her pupils, the souless hair.
She is just as lost as anyone else.
But different. She knows.

Cracked paint upon her nails,
bitten, annoyed and unadvanced.
She tries to forget simple minded hate.
But there is so much, it's hard not to create.