A girl

• Tara Walton, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2005

A girl

And she was left there hanging
By her soft elegant throat, her neck snapped
How the world could make something so beautiful,
So rare, then let it take it back
The same girl who only three weeks before,
Threw herself into the pure black-silver water and surivived
The tracks up her arms area memory of all her depressions
Memories only she could understand
How could anyone let her die
Her purity replaced by her intent to be in peace
Away from the hatred and pain, that had been inflicted upon her.
She had embarked on her journey
And sad as it is found it in death
Her peace found only in her eternal sleep
And yet she would not let you cry
For her mission in life was complete.