Her story

<center><textsize= 20> So this is a story of a girl, She was a cute little baby. Flawless. On the inside and outside. She was a pretty young girl. Flawless. On the inside and outside. She was a beautiful young woman... Flawless...On the outside. She stuffs as much as she can in to an overnight bag, Her pumping adrinaline shatters through her fear. A lighter and some cigarettes hidden in her shirt, She sneaks outside, then once clear, takes off running through the dirt. What's happened to her? No ones really sure but me. After all, I'm the author. She needs a break from all the shit that she's been put through for 14 years. She's tired of being judged, being hit after too many beers. She's a good mile down the road when she suddenly remembers. Shit, She forgot it. Collapsing as if completely dismembered, Multiple tears running down her face, She thinks of herself as such a disgrace. Her beautiful teddy bear, Mr. Dewby Specifically made for her by her Great Granny Rubie. But now it's too late, no turning back, 'Cause here in a few hours, it'll be pitch black. She wipes off her face, and continues to run, Her hopes and dreams, her life coming undone. So weak, so young, her life's coming undone. All of a sudden she feels a quick thrust, She's pulled into an alley, Pulled out of context, out of an older man's lust... Well, that's all I can fit into her story. The beautiful tragety She called her life. Now, she's just a lonely dead rose, that used to be beautiful, fully bloomed. I've filled the last page;I've run out of room.