She is a survivor

Sometimes scared and frightened

Fearing for her life

Often for her limbs

Yet she continues

Many times she is hungry

Not just for food, but life

Attention, a hug or two

Once she was learning

When she was younger

Thats when she had to

The others ridiculed her

Her clothes, her hair, just her

Everyday was the same

One outfit was the limit

Tattered, filthy and plain

From a Hefty Bag left on the sidewalk

Same as a few meals in the past

The smell of booze and cigarettes

Old syringes strewn about

Bottles, cans, trash and roaches

Mice and rats called it home too

Electricity was a bonus

It never lasted long

Incense and candles a bonus

The aroma enabled the dream

The others never lived like this

Not the ones from school

They loathed her presence, her being

Those were the reasons

She loathed her being

Tears used to reign

They had disappeared long ago

The need for heat was strong

The lack of an expected

Pieces of cardboard, old drapes

Whatever could be utilized

Never any reason to expect more

The beast always ruled

Her purpose was never known

Not an essential or necessity

Maybe a whipping post

She is a Survivor 

A sounding board for scorn

Seeking a pity party in her moments

A beast is a beast is a beast

Fists of fury

Teeth of steel and eyes stone cold

Bruises from these weapons

Maybe fractures, broken too

Nobody ever cared

A small photograph of a young girl

With a beautiful woman

Before the beast came

Before they went to hell

She is a survivor