She sat in her closet and cried of her gloom.
The door slammed- her father had entered the room.
Insults were spat- herself on the wall.
She would not crumble. She would stand tall.

He said she was worthless, a waste of skin.
Pathetic and useless, it would not end.
He said she was ugly and horribly fat.
Those won’t the only things his tongue had spat.

He raised his fist, in a single move.
He would not stop, but she had no proof.
So she fell to the ground, and begged on her knees.
The old man ignored all of her pleas.

An ugly smirk crossed his ugly face
His fist moved and the pain she embraced.
But it was not just one, they kept repeating.
The force, the abuse was not depleting.

In fact it increased on a daily basis.
Her emotions were crushed, but not as much as her face was.
Somehow no one noticed, or at least they didn’t say.
She hoped and prayed it would end one day.

But that day was probably off in the distance.
She went ever day with a horrible reminiscence.
Tears streamed down her face, she was afraid to be alone.
She would be free one day, that she had known.

It was her fourteenth birthday, he said happy thirteen.
She had three years left, then she wouldn’t be seen.
But until then what could she have done?
When she reached out for help but there was no one?

Days and weeks had passed her by.
Every day in her closet she would sit and cry.
And as soon as she would hear the door slam,
She would bang on the wall and call for her brother Kam.

He would run in and put up a fight.
This usually would happen every night.
She was afraid to be in her own room.
To fight her misery and indulge in her gloom.

Sirens and lights sped down the street.
Maybe this time there’d be no defeat.
Though there was “no” proof the police had said.
What proof do they want? A little girl dead?

They came back five days later and said the same story.
They said they’d be watching, she’d better not worry.
But after school ends she was afraid to go home.
To an empty house... in a closet... alone.

Three months later while she was in school,
Her father took everything, she felt like a fool.
But now her mother and brothers felt free.
Free from the abuse and the misery.

Two years later and she still felt controlled,
As if she didn’t have her mind or soul.
He still tried to abuse her with his voice.
She decided to make a choice.

She never saw him again and she was eighty-eight.
The feeling inside her heart made her feel great.
She died five years later because of her pleas.
She went to Heaven where she rests in peace.

But she is not the only one who has ever been stuck.
Millions of other people have been down on their luck.
She stood strong and she survived.
Through her determination, though she suffered in her life.

She sat in her closet and cried of her gloom.
The door slammed- her father had not entered the room.
Insults weren’t spat- she leaned on the wall.
She did not crumble. She... stood tall.

Save the abused!