A little girl with a Heroine adiction
Given to her with malice and purpose
To trap her in a life of prostitution and service
To do things you couldn't imagine could be done
To a thirteen year old girl disilusioned so young
not having seen puberty yet
and forced to be a grown mans pet
She was told her purpose in life
To be a perverts plaything, not a mans wife
Ignoring her crys of no and please
They kept them comeing the sickos the sleaze
Then one night a man worse than the rest
He felt he knew how to torture her best
With sick toys and a camera in hand
He paid for this treat, he paid a grand
with plenty of time , he paid for the night
he wanted to torture her, drain all her fight
straped to a table in fear of her life
out of his bag comes a razor sharp knife
He would cause her pain and then he would smile
The Bastard got off on it ,taking photos all the while
here a cut, there a slice
drain her blood drink her life
He used a toilet plunger with a long handle
And forced it in, all the pain she could handle
As she felt her insides rip and tear apart
She knew he would kill her, knew in her heart
For the more blood that he would spill
The more satisfying was his thrill
he would lick up the blood then again make her bleed
he was a sick bastard on her blood he did feed
She knew this could not go on any longer
She needed a way to fight back, make herself stronger
he untied her and made her mix him a drink
this gave her a little time to think
He needed a drink for this thirsty work
So she made it for him with a little quirk
The heroine he was given to tame her
Went in his glass, as a smile overcame her
He drank it and found his life in her hand
She beat half to death, this disgusting man
Her body and mind damaged byond repair
Would the bastard live? why should she care
She left then, him bleeding and broken
She ran away her temper still smokin
Blood running down her thighs
Broken jaw and bleeding eyes
It took some time but her body did heal
As for her mind thats a whole different deal
This all hapend twenty one long years ago
she kept it to herself let few people know
She made a life for herself over the years to come
A husband, children and a place to call home
She made it somehow through so many years
Keeping the demons away, fighting her fears
Now these things have come back to haunt her life
These things have come back, to haunt my wife
Copyright 2001 Wounded
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