I fight my anger and bite back tears
But I’ve seen too much over the years
In the midst of all this strife
I’ve seen a mother beaten within an inch of her life
I’ve seen a young boy with a novel of words he couldn’t speak
His face bright red, his frustration at a peak
I’ve looked out through the eyes of a little girl
Who didn’t understand all the fuss and whirl
When she was seven she said “no mommy that’s not what I wanna do”
And later ended up crying herself blue
She didn’t wanna live on the streets like she had since she was born
But loyalty to the one that raised her had left her feeling torn
She felt so guilty, she’d let her mom down
And for a long while all she could do was frown
At school she felt isolated and all alone
The others just teased ? she was all on her own
As a 12 year old she pointed the blame
Blindly at herself, without first taking careful aim
She cried herself to sleep nearly every night
Then woke from a nightmare, screaming with fright
She learned to hide what she was feeling
Outwardly happy, inside she was reeling
She was a “normal” child for a few years
Then began a whole new set of tears
All she wanted was a boy to like her
That should be easy, her friends all seemed sure
But her early trauma prevented teenaged simplicity
And led her to boys who treated her with duplicity
She dealt with these problems with the semblance of a smile
But inside she once again put herself on trial
She once again felt the sharp sting of shame
As she once again believed herself to be at blame
She tried so hard to control what she felt
And ended up with an angry red welt
It was her first attempt at a cut, and it was futile
But she tried again after a great while
Soon enough a ruby red stream trickled down her arm
The endorphin rush blocked what should have been alarm
She repeated it day after day for far too long
Until something inside her just felt wrong
She felt so bad and she couldn’t lie
All she wanted to do now was die
She was just about to do the deed
When she felt an urge she thought shed heed
Unexpectedly she began to pray
Just as the first rays of sun heralded the new day
She got the help from some divine intervention
But there’s something else I think I should mention
This isn’t a fairytale, this story is true
This girl is as real as anyone around you
She still sometimes hurts, sometimes more than most
Perfection is not a quality she can rightfully boast
In fact as she writes this she is fighting her anger, and biting back tears
As she ponders the many things she has seen over her few years