Abuse.

There once was a girl
who wore long sleeves.
She had beautiful hair
that blew in the breeze.

She had a smile
that would warm your heart.
She tried to get good grades,
tried to be smart.


There once was a girl
with arms bloodied and bruised.
If you lifted her sleeves,
you would know she was abused.

She hid her pain,
and wore a mask.
Keeping her bruises hidden
was truly a task.

She wore lots of makeup,
always had a smile on her face.
She didn't talk much,
for she knew her place.

She came home in fear
of being hit.
She didn't show her fear,
for she had some wit.

She tried to be good,
to do everything right.
But brother got mad,
and abused her that night.

Bloodied and bruised,
scared and alone.
She shouldn't have smiled at brother.
She should have known.

She picked herself up,
told herself it would be alright.
But the sad thing is,
she would go through this torment again tomorrow night.

Little did she know,
God was holding her tight.
He would help her get through this.
It was going to be alright.

The next night,
she was abused one last time.
She hit her head hard,
then everything was fine.

That was the night
she died on the floor.
Now that she was dead,
she could be abused no more.


There once was a girl
who wore long sleeves.
She had the most beautiful hair,
but no longer did it blow in the breeze.

She had a smile
that would warm your heart.
But no longer would anyone see that smile,
because her and life were torn apart.