The daughter, oh so beloved Pandora, 

sat at her first years desk.

A baby of life, 

just grasping at knowledge,

burdened with expectations.

For her mother saw hope in her beautiful eyes, 

and her father saw money to spend.

She sat through the nights awoken by anger, 

held secrets with delicate palms.

Not once did she question the actions around her

till decades had come and had gone.
Till the day she parted her cherry red lips

 to scream sorrow that quickly unfurled.

A blind eye we all turned to her suffering state,

now we share in her miserable world.