Name

They look at me.

All mushed up faces into one.

What is your name? yells a man.

Your ugly says another

But all I see is a young girl.

Hiding under a weeping willow.

Her Mothers grave to the left,

Her Fathers to the right,

Her little brothers under her.

She sits there and cries.

Food is thrown.

She is called unspeakable names.

I walk up.

And she disappears,

I was to late.

She was to young.

I was to young.