A little child sat dying on a lonely hill,
as memories of the parents that deceived her crossed her mind
tears of defeat came from behind,
the warm summers touch faded from her thoughts.

A little child sat dying of hunger,
she lay weak and defeated ,
the thought of being loved faded from memory,
the warmth of the breeze lost in touch.

A little child sat dying of pain,
the bruises on her back etched in her mind,
here cuts of hate came from no one kind,
as the cool summers wind swept away her joy.

A little child sat dying of hate,
thinking only of the parents who gave her this fate,
the tears of pain came sweeping on the hill,
that poor little girl who now remains still.
 
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