Jane Doe
Her golden hair moved in the breeze
Like cornsilk highlighted by the sun
Nobody knows what her name is
Or from where she has come
Her body was found by the roadside
Thrown from a moving car
It's now been three weeks since
And nobody has claimed her so far
Surely, she wasn't in this world
Without a family or friend
We want to find out who she is
But just don't know where to begin
Her picture is in the paper
Maybe someone will know
So she will have her own name
Not a headstone marked, "Jane Doe"
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