The girl's body was unaturally still,
and her mother stared at her popping a pill.
A squell escaped her lips the sound quite shrill.
Her daughter was gone.
She had dropped there right onto the lawn,
the girl's life being drawn,
like in chess she was the pawn,
moving on.
Her mother plopped onto the floor clutching her legs,
her eyes scrunched, now tears they shed.
Her black funeral dress,
tear-stained, her brain an emotional mess.
(Some of these rhymes may sound a little forced,
I've gotten this comment on another poem, so I just
want to know what you think. Is it a bit better?)
