Dove with Clipped Wings

Her name is Doll and she can't stand pain,

yet that's all she feels inside of her brain.

Blessed not with beauty, wit nor grace

Her family cast her aside, the plain had no place.

She walks around like the little girl she is,

Nothing left beating behind her ribs.

In a society filled with stigmas and ideals,

she never had a chance, her fate had been sealed.

So instead of fighting the injustice in the hand she'd been dealt,

Doll created new friends on her chemistry belt.

They had funky names and made her feel good,

Xanax, Lorazepam, and Valium soon became food.

So a common sight after they met,

Was her struggling from taking all she could get.

She'll unsteadily make her way down the hall,

A frail, broken child clinging to the wall.

Her parents will ignore her and that's okay,

Everyone else does anyway.

Dry heaving and crying, this girl is sick,

So many things are wrong you can take your pick.

She longs for just a drop of love,

Her trembling hands outwards and eyes cast above .

In her dreams she screams "Save me, save me!"

Day by day her spirits breaking.

Only 16 and she's a major pill popper,

She's too far gone that no one can stop her.

She's fallen into depression's endless pit,

She's a short-fused bomb, the match is lit.

She'll be leaving behind this life soon enough,

It's her solution to things when the going gets tough.

Chances not taken and happiness not found,

Doll has finally left this Merry-Go-Round.

And just as in life her corpse is alone,

A measly skeleton, nothing but bones.

Author's Note

Trigger Warning: Substance Abuse, Child Neglect, Suicide