"Sandra"

Pining for the night, She walks alone.

Poor little girl, not knowing where to go.

With her teddy in one hand, the raven boquet in the other,

Her soul cannot find her way home.



For she was left for dead,

It seemed that for years no one cared.

Now her flowing gown of white wonders the grave,

For this little girl wants to go to her bed of stone pave.



"Sandra." Her name was engraved,

Nothing else but a name, Not a loving sentiment.

She cries, but no one comes,

Her heart and soul now betrayed and ashamed.