Thief

This wasn’t my plan,
His wasn’t my sickness,
These weren't my dreams,
These were his wishes,
I was just a little girl,
I was just playing dolls,
Before becoming this monster,
I sang and skipped down the hall,
He stole my playtime,
He shattered my soul,
My dolls became demons,
My playground a hole,
There used to be laughter,
Blonde hair in the sun,
There’s not enough bleach,
To clean up what he’s done,
His hands were dirty,
His soul was as well,
A sweet blue eyed angel,
Whom he sentenced to hell,
My smile now as forced and fake,
Like the face of those dolls,
My stare as dead and empty,
My blood poured down that hall.