A Girl Named Darla

Just wanted to share my latest poem..

It’s based loosely on a young girl I know. Not really.



I once knew a girl named Darla,

Who wished her name was Carla.


It made her truly, deeply mad –

And her inner fury turned her bad.


When she was aged just four,

She went and pooped on the kitchen floor.


And at the ripe old age of six,

She killed a puppy dog for kicks.


As soon as Darla turned eight,

She went out on her very first date.


Her boyfriend at the time was Ben.

He’d only just that day turned ten.


He took her to the local park.

And there they stayed out after dark.


They climbed atop the monkey bars,

And threw some rocks at passing cars.


“This is so much fun” she said,

As two cars crashed head to head.


Darla kissed Ben on the cheek,

As petrol fumes started to leak.


Then a mighty fire broke out,

And frenzied people ran about.


Sirens, cops and fire crews,

The crash so bad it made the News.


Darla took Ben by the hand,

“I hate my name” she said offhand.


As the park got filled with smoke,

She and Ben started to choke.


“I think it’s time to go” Ben said,

“I’d rather be inside my bed.”


Then he turned and walked on home,

But Darla stayed out all alone.


She sat and watched the cars burn bright,

She sat and watched them burn all night.


Darla sobbed and cried out shrilly,

“My God my name sounds so silly.”


Soon the sun did start to rise,

To mark the start of her demise…


By the time that she was nine,

Darla lived a life of crime.


She didn’t even go to school,

But young Darla was no fool.


In fact she made loads of cash,

Selling heroine and hash.


By the time that she turned ten,

She found herself a pimp called Ken.


And as her fame and fortune mounted,

She earned cash more than could be counted.


But despite all of her wealth and pay,

She cried each and every single day.


Deep down she still loathed her name,

She thought that it was really lame.


The years passed and Darla aged,

But still her inner fury still raged.


One day her pimp heard her cry,

He softly knocked and asked her why.


“Ken” she whispered in his ear,

“I have been sad for many a year!”


“It’s all because of what I’m called,

“My name! It makes me feel appalled!”


The pimp was greatly stupefied,

“I love your name!” he quickly lied.


“Well I don’t” Darla said,

“It makes me wish that I was dead.”


Ken just stood there at the door,

Staring straight down at the floor.


“I just do not know what I can do,

“If only you, Ken, had a clue.”


The pimp was silent for a sec,

“I have a secret to confess.”


“My predicament was once the same,

“I did not want my real name.”


Ken told her of one fateful night,

When two cars crashed and burned alight.


He changed his name from Ben to Ken,

When he was just the age of ten.


“I was scared of getting caught,

“I was young and so distraught.”


Darla was so shocked to hear,

Ben changed his name out of fear.


But more than that she was elated,

To find the boy that she once dated.


“Ben I can’t believe it’s true,

“I can’t believe that I’ve found you.”


Straight away she changed her name,

And since, she’s never been the same.


She and Ken ran away,

Moved out to a farm that day.


Soon her inner fury faded,

And she no longer feels so jaded.


But she and Ken still never say a single word about… that day.


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