March 25, 2011
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It started when she was eight,
There were monsters in her room.
She screamed for someone she knew would save her,
Only who she thought was her hero, was the real monster.

She would wake up every morning with new wounds,
During school was hard.
After all she had to come up with a story for each bruise,
She knew she could tell no one, for if she did,
She was a dead little girl

One night she thought of something,
What if she locked her door.
She went to the door and turned the lock,
Hurried back to bed and counted to eleven.
He came, she heard him,
But couldn't get in.

The next morning she work we no new evidence,
But that day her parents had news.
Her little sister was born nine months later,
She grew protective of the newborn.

When her sister was five, she came down with bruises,
She then taught her sister how to lock her door.
One evening when everything was quiet,
She went to check her sister's door.

Late morning, the next day,
Her little sister went into her room.
She found her sibling dead,
She had been beat to death.
All because after she came from her sister's room

She forgot to lock her own door.

**Stop abuse.**

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