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Act

The Diary

Used my crayons for painting horses
Pigs and monkeys, bird's who's flying
All of this was quite accepted
Without their skin they were affected

Just turned eleven and now she's going on twelve
No one could see
She must be one in hundred millions
A mind so totally torn and wrecked, folks
What have you done with this poor girl
You made her believe that nothing's sacred
Her conscience is lost
Voices tell me I am in need
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See the people in pain and to bleed
Psychiatrists they never say
A knife can kill and now she is dead
Just turned eleven and now she's going on twelve
No one could see
She must be one in hundred millions
A mind so totally torn and wrecked, folks
What have you done with this poor girl
You made her believe that nothing's sacred
Her conscience is lost