Memorial train of thought

I had this cousin
Danique was her name
She was out on the town
At the station
Short skirted
When those religious boys came
As the train came along
They pushed her to the track
And she would never be the same
It took her legs, well for the most part
Skin grafts and transplants
But always infected
Seeping and rotten
No charges pressed
No names named
But the CCTV footage is available
Not that it gave her a leg to stand on
Couldn't even get her foot in the door
That'd be islamophobic see.
Now danique had a daughter
Amelia, she was only seven at the time
Bright and young
Forgiving of her mother's pain
Danique had this addiction
Heroin for a heroine
She used to shoot up
Fitting track marks up her arm
For the sleepers were but a reminder
One day
Aunty gene
Walked into an alley by daniques house
And there she was
Foamy mouthed and barren eyed
Needle still in the vain
Overdosed and dead
She took a part of her daughter with her
Whether to heaven or hell who knows
But Amelia kept a part of her mother
And it balances out
So now gene see's her daughter
In her granddaughters eyes
This little beautiful reflection
Of the hopeful dead
Sometimes it's just a flash
Which flickers past quicker than the train
And derails aunty gene for a moment
But sometimes she'll find Amelia
Staring at pictures of danique
With those very same glazed eyes
Frosted over
That danique wore when she passed
Sometimes I wonder
Where will this little girl go
Will she be bitter as she grows up
It's hard to say where danique is looking
But when Amelia looks up
Gene looks down
And when gene looks up
Amelia looks down
And there's much more
Than simple size differences to that