Her mother's name is lonely
Her father's name is pain
They called her little sorrow
someone dark, a walking
shadow

They see, her through the
eyes of yesterday
choices made without her
input
a hollow picture faint and
blurred

with no restrain they lash
with all vigour
biting deep; tearing out
chunks of flesh
pouring out their hurt
and grievances
like she was a sin
offering

By birth her name is
sorrow
A child of pain and loneliness
Yet tomorrow holds a future
so clear a sky
one as pretty as she dares
to dream.

little sorrow? That's a shame
cos to her and the life ahead
that's not her name