Morning.
She was just a mere child – a babe.
In her lacy pink dress and shiny new shoes,
she danced under the clouds,
clutching her stuffed rabbit.
A lollipop from a strange man.
A car with out-of-town plates.
She's gone.
Her blood spilled like nail polish.
Her body broken like a lead pencil.
A whisper. A shout.
Mourning.