Innocence wilts,
tulips in a graveyard.
No hope left
to flutter slowly by.
Rays of sun can no longer
bring her back to life.

She sits on a curb, idly,
with nothing to watch,
no one to look for her.
She is alone;
there is nothing to replace her fear
as it crumples her
into a vulnerable heap of dust.

She has become a piece
of paper,
shredded,
thrown away by uncaring hands.
Soaked by mud and rain,
she is nothing,
she is no one,
she is gone.