A Light Shines Through...

April 11, 2008
By Emily Sprague, Midland, MI

A light shines through to my bedroom door.
As you walk in, my insides become sore.
You take me by the scruff of my shirt.
You tell me that I'm less than dirt.
Your hand smacks my cheek.
You call me a freak.
You leave, swearing up a storm.
I stay in my room and mourn.
Daddy, what did I do?
Did I do something to hurt you?
As I wish to once again know your warm embrace.
I still feel your palm against my face.


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