Punching Bag

She was always the first one to lend a helping hand

Torn by conviction, bound by circumstance

And he was angry, mad at the world

So he took it out on the girl

He had to raise his hands

Use her like a punching bag

To prove he was a man

One girl, slightly used

Broken, damaged goods

She sits alone in a third floor walk-up

Across from the liquor store

Huggin' a bottle, til a man can keep her warm

She checks the mail, not once but twice a day

For an answer to the ad she placed

Bold type, printed in red

Seven words I can't forget

Simply it read

Someday this will end

She will live again