Jane Doe

Jane Doe
Rosy cheeks,
Teary eyes,
Sorrow drenched heart,
Why oh why,
Did he cause her so much pain,
Frizzy wool hair,
Glossy redish, pinkish, blood smeared lips.
A face once envied by many now
Pale and cold
So easily he took her beauty.
Never will it return unless unleashed by concealer and heavy make up.
Daddy’s little girl became
A stranger’s playground
Her ripped flowery purple shirt revealing the roundness, the firmness of her milky colored breast.
Blue jeans unbottomed showing shreds of white lace.
Most it be said her purity forever gone.
How could someone steal such a life
And here her body lie on the cold hard cement, out for anyone to see.
So slowly they pull the thin white sheet over her and yet no one knows her name. Jane Doe they whisper
And these whispers circle around and Jane Doe she remains until her soul touches heavens door and God welcomes Sarah Marie to her new aquired home.poetry. poems, ingrid jennings, good poetry

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