The little girl name Sniper

So scare to put her clothes on
Because the echoes of his fist
Has fashion her body to never be safe
How can the dead be living
And walk freely over the blood
That`s drawing a puddle of unhappy faces
Showing the reflections, of her daughter cries,missing the mirror of her daughter heart,where death becomes her eyes
Misbehaving her love
That her daddy never minor her to do
when his brain were painted across the wall
She became artist call sniper to draw what her prayers wan`t to change
But her mom kept letting him in
Because her love was just a arm rest
For lust to have tribulation
A little girl name Sniper her letter to her Father death