A lass on a swing,
looking down.
a girl asks to play,
friendship is found.

Two years later,
fifth grade entry,
"Are you leaving so soon?"
"Yes. Will you miss me?"

Alone once again,
tears drops glistening.
Where is everyone?
No one is listening.

"Little Miss. Boo Who"
as they would call her.
Inner darkness creeping,
as she gets older.

More harsh names are said,
as she runs in a saddened mien.
The gash in her heart
continues to bleed.

Children so cruel,
just ready to tear,
Let's go back to the girl,
and see how she bears.

I'm sorry to say,
but the girl is dead.
All of this could have been avoided,
If she only had a friend.

People gather around,
mourning their loss.
Her friend from the past knells down,
placing a cross.

Now a women,
a mother of three,
she smiles at her newborn baby,
"I'll name you, Tammi"