Whispers wander through her veins, will she ever learn to love again?
A vigilant heart, a vunrable soul, for life’s demons have surely stole.
Six weeks early into this world, here she was, a tiny baby girl.
Toddler tales to go on for miles, pretty pink dresses in millions of styles.
Sweet sixteen was finally here, along with a moment most parents fear.
Away she ran, far from her home, a terrible mistake that was yet to be known.
Time went on, twelve months passed over, none of which she had spent sober.
Beaten, abused, tattered and torn, these are the burdens that are still well worn.
Life had won and there were bridges to be burnt, the mistake she made had finally been learnt.
Home she returned to a loving embrace, tears streamed down her tragically bruised face.
Life went on and so did she, finding her purpose and her place to be.
Her heart is humble and surely blessed, no matter her past, an irrefutable mess.
The demons whispers of the life they stole, a white noise she cannot control.
A vigilant heart, a venerable soul, to mend other’s lives, her foremost goal.
She is no God, perhaps a saviour, to save souls with no debt for favour.
She asks no rewards and wants no price, just to be put to rest knowing she changed a life.