She once was Daddy's precious little girl
with golden hair in ringlets and tight curls.
With a pretty new dress and bright shiny shoes
but now she is battered, bleeding and bruised!
Her childhood; now cut short- had been smiles, giggles and hope
but now she is 'strung-up' on heroin and coke.
It had all fallen to pieces when Daddy died so young
her older brother crushed by it- couldn't cope and by rope he hung.
Mother tried to bring up her children just right
but they could hear her weeping softly in the night.
Work was so scarce and Mom had no skills
barely anything to eat, and not much for the bills.
-So she learned to beg and steal at a tender age
and blamed it on Daddy, it so filled her with rage!
Soon she was drinking and fighting just to live
then Mother died, she had given all she could give.
She ran away, before 'those' people could come
but they got her younger brothers, they were always too dumb.
Not her; she had learned important 'rules' from the street,
'you take from others if you wanted to survive and to eat!'
Life wasn't too bad; if you could take the hard 'knocks'
seeing kids sick and dead; had long ago numbed the shock.
She was dirty, smelly, and usually strung-up so high
that she hardly cared if she lived another day or she died.
She had some 'homies'; that she could call on
and one night they broke into a house for a little fun.
They were all drugged up and had only done it for a hoot
it had never crossed their minds, that the owner would really shoot!
The others just scattered in panic and left her there alone
the owner looked down and then went to the phone.
She lay there dying, shaved head; no more ringlets and curls
wishing just one last time, she was again her Daddy's little girl.