In the diary

Under a shade of a closed room,
Pages, and ink,
Dots of a scattered mind,
Scribblings on the wall
And painting on the ceiling
The bruises on her skin
The scars of her dying heart
And the shadow of her soul,

Daddy’s little princess
A face blurred,
In a bed of nightmares
When he sneaked in,
Marrying the silence of her tears,
That  soaked her pillows of youth
And stole her fountain of happiness
Before the sun rose,
Above her mountain of the past

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