Who is that girl at the window? the one with the loose flaxen curls?
Who is that girl who rattles the frame at night, crying until dawnbreak unfurls?
Who is that girl with the pale complexion, the one with the sullen red eyes?
And who is that girl who screams out her lungs, and why does nobody answer her cries?
Why is she locked up in that tiny room at the top of the house on the hill?
And why since they moved out twenty years ago, is she trapped in there, sobbing still?
Why won't you help me to free her? Why do you say shes not there at all?
If so, then who was it, if it wasn't her, who inked 'Let Me Out' on the wall?
Why do you say that i'm crazy? Why can't you just believe that its true?
And why is it that you turn away, and say that you have other things to do?
When i mention her name you cover your face and weep with your hands on your head,
I ask why you cry and you tell me why, "the truth baby is that....she's dead."


yo...uppin for replies. It was just muddled up in my head so i sorted it out and made a poem.......

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