She wants to die and she knows why,
there are many black clouds, in her sky.

Multiply they do, each and every day,
no matter how many nice words, she has to say.

Emotions so thick it takes up her breath,
perhaps this what is simply called death.

Use her they do, to cook and clean,
treated with no respect, they are just mean.

Mean as evil who grows like cancer,
who was the man who looked like a dancer?

All the correct steps he waltzed to the beat,
now she is lost, out on the street.

A street called dead end, with no where to go,
visited by her favorite author, Edgar Allen Poe.

The Raven she loved more than a dove,
simple and black, like a verbal attack!

Attack her self esteem since she was young,
wishing the attacker soon would be hung.

Hung up to stop the abuse she did take,
fate stepped in and quiet took stake.

Drugs, booze and porn all he adorned,
coming home to him, was like a thunder storm.

Escaping the hell is not what it seems,
now she will be lonely, for then it seems.

Move in with what he tells her to,
giving up her pets, makes her blue.

Slit cut her throat for she can't take the pain,
living without them, will make her insane.

For they are her children but he doesn't care,
he loves not his daughters, just an empty, mean stare.

A stare with no tears of no remorse,
pain of pure hell, has taken it's course.

Die she does want, so let it be,
she is now poor and won't accept charity.

Love she will never have, for evil is here,
she is a witch and not a kind dear.

Why else would she suffer since she was one,
like is pure pain, it is not fun.

Let her world end, she wants to die,
black clouds smother her being, up in the sky.