She breathes her last breath;
And close her eyes to her death;
Can you ever seem to forget?
The wretched cries;
Heard from a thousand miles;
Oh how time flies;
For this hurt female child;

She remembered it so vividly;
Her naked body stood cold and numb;
She felt like a lost doll tossed in a corner;
Used and thrown, bounced as a ball;
Her skin is dry, lips as chapped as the desert;
The ground was cold as it hugged her skinny fragile body;
Lying on the ground, locked in “Daddy’s Tool Room;”
Days and night passes, as months flew by;
In a cold world unknown;

With no soap, to shower, no shampoo or cream;
The cruelty was real, as it gets from her stepmother;
Her sexuality develop late, oh what a dreadful state;
To have no one to teach her what to expect,
Till the changes of her body were met;
This stage came in no anticipation;
A missed stage of identity vs. confusion;
Who am I and why was I born?

I have to find my identity, I have to find my self-esteem.
I have to blend into society, school and my community;
I have no friends,
I am torn within; my mind is damaged before it’s mature;
Pleading to God in prayer to take her life
Not a parent to lean on;
Not a person to hide her fears;
Not a human being to turn to;
Yet she live until the Lord was ready to take her soul away.