Perfect World

Once, there was a little girl,
Smart and pretty as can be
And, of course, her parents knew
'Twas obvious to see,
But still they always tried
To make her better than she was
No one knows really why,
Or the lost "because."

So she would simply listen
To what her parents decreed.
Them not knowing the resentment
Growing in their 'seed'.
She listened to their every rule,
Not having her own mind
Not truly knowing all the joy
Of being 'one-of-a-kind'.

But one day her parents
Denied a simplistic request
One who's level of difficulty
Was easy; At best
She went to her room,
To cry, silently, alone.
Pray and wishing to
Be somewhere else but 'Home'.

So that night, she went
Quietly to her parent's room,
Them naively unaware
Of a certain doom.
She searched and found
Her father's gun,
A toy not meant
For anyone.

She was ready to take her life,
She was ready to die,
And held the gun up to herself,
Between left and right eye.
She pulled the trigger
At her head,
Fell to the ground
Lying cold, dead.

Til morning, parents
Unaware
Of her laying,
Bloody, there.
Unaware of what they did,
To their little girl.
Trying to force her in
To their 'Perfect' Little World.