The words hit her like a bee;

Though they’re small, the poison still takes a toll:

The floods of tears come rushing free;

A kind word would fill the hole

Worsened by each drop of acid.

Her world shivers as the drilling goes on,

The oceans of rest are far from placid

As a fault line to the core continues to be sawn.

Some hope springs up at the sight of a man

Who gives her promise of all and healing and joy.

She concedes, and he carries out his plan:

A plan to rob her of purity so she can be his toy;

She sees it too late

And her fall is great.

Light visits her not as wounds begin to burn,

Wounds that tell her to find one to which to turn;

But who can she trust?

Around her are those who for control do lust.

In their hands, her heart will no longer be her own;

She would only serve to make their throne.

A voice whispers to her, “Come; I’ll show you true love.”

“Why should I?” she says. “Like the rest, you’ll leave.”

“Ask another who knows me; they’ll tell you it’s so.”

She glances at someone nearby whose face is aglow.

“Where do I start? I’m consumed by fright.”

“If you want, here you can talk. We all have problems alike.”