Another poetic piece to describe the pain that so many young women encounter everyday.
Their tears may be invisible to you but they aren’t invisible to God.
Her steps say more than her words ever do.
She’s judged by me and she’s judged by you.
Those skimpy outfits leave a bad impression.
If only we knew her real confession.
The tears and rape behind her actions.
Are the results of her dissatisfaction.
Reflected in her colourful fingernails.
Reflected in her colourful weave.
Leaving our thoughts to be based
Only on what we perceive.
We wonder why there are so many like her.
We wonder why they dont care.
About the world.
If only we could understand
That dying little girl.
Torn apart by society
And what we feel is in actuality
What she should be
What she should become
What she is Is far from being done.
She is unraveled by her insecurity
Belitted by her promiscuity
Trapped in her failure
So she is who she is
CAN YOU REALLY BLAME HER?
If only we had the compassion we have
For homeless people
To bring them into the embraces
Under our steeples
To care and nurture them
Back to the Fathers heart
Maybe the shattered pieces of their life
Would finally become works of art
But we judge them when we see them
So nothing is done
And they are left to this world
Who treats them so horrid
If only they could see the Masters tears
He could finally pour into them
BUT This decision needs to be made by all of us
So won’t you help them
Help that dying lonely girl?
By, Tiffany J Chase