Hollywoods Horror

I spy a girl with cuts on her arm
With bruises on her face from a guy who does harm
With tears that softly roll down her face
Who feels nothing more than shame and disgrace
With ragged clothes and messy hair
With a head full of voices that aren't really there
With a cigarette in hand and no shoes on her feet
With only enough money to make it through the week
With scars on her body and a few broken bones
Who shivers from the cold as she lives on the streets alone
Who sells herself to get money for food
Who knows a beating will again come soon
I spy a girl who quickly gave up
Who will never again know the feeling of trust
Who will never know about true love
Who hopes that the next guy will pay her enough
I spy a girl who takes drugs to make it through the day
Who has convinced herself that this is the only way
Who believes the next guy will treat her right
But finds out she's wrong with each beating at night
I spy a girl who is well known
Who lives a lifestyle that is clearly shown
The name for this girl cannot be told
This poem is real and maybe cold.