Dorothy Eleanor

Send Message


In the dead of the night there is a cry of pain.
One child loses innocence and a soul commits to flames.
No help hears this call and thus none arrives,
They are left to the darkness with tears in their eyes.
Again and again this same scene will replay,
The child holds a secret they will take to the grave.
They gather their heart now shattered in two,
Trying to suppress the memories is the best they can do.
As the years drag slowly by, they lose their grip;
The memories slip back in and they begin to unzip.
In the dead of this night there are no cries of pain.
One child ends his life, another victim claimed.
203 Total read