A Little Girl
Locked inside in a cold, dark, empty room away from the world to see
Cowers a little girl in a corner struggling to be free...
She is a child, a little girl of maybe seven or eight
Scarred from so many years of abuse and hate...
The unspeakable acts of violence she knows all too well
And knows too that she mustn't never ever tell...
For who would she tell and why would they care
She is so frightened she just reaches for her bear...
For what if she tells someone about it all and they did believe
Would that make it better or should she just continue to deceive...
They said it was her fault that she was to blame
She knows she is bad so why shouldn't others feel the same...
Why would anyone bother with her in any way
When she cannot even begin to know what to say...
The tears falling down her cheeks now like the rain
Her hurt showing now showing all the pain...
She sees her past now like a movie slide show
And she remembers each and every blow...
She sees it all now every single one as they had their turn
Her fear growing now her stomach even beginning to churn...
She watches each and every incident close but from afar
She doesn't have to look to find the scar...
The pain becoming stronger now filling every pore
It shakes her shakes her right down to her core...
She feels every violation, feels every pain, hears every word said
And deep down inside she wishes she was dead...
She knows a way to end the hurt, pain and tears
But this is the thing she probably most fears...
The razor laying next to her calling for her to come
Knowing that in its use there is release at least some...
She grabs it now its edges glinting like the sun
And she makes the long, deep cuts the blood beginning to run...
She's so ashamed now the deed is done
Knowing that yet again they won...
She's thinking now of what she has heard people say
That she deserved it in each and every way...
She stays in the corner now away from the light
Knowing that she doesn't have the strength to fight...
Sad, cold, alone, afraid, and crying
She feels like in some ways she is dying...
You might ask how do you know her so well
How is it that you have all this to tell...
Well I will tell you why I know
Is it not plain or does it not show...
I know that little girl very well you see
I know because that little girl lives inside of me.....
My little girl, Kayla
Locked inside in a cold, dark, empty room away from the world to see
Cowers a little girl in a corner struggling to be free...
She is a child, a little girl of maybe seven or eight
Scarred from so many years of abuse and hate...
The unspeakable acts of violence she knows all too well
And knows too that she mustn't never ever tell...
For who would she tell and why would they care
She is so frightened she just reaches for her bear...
For what if she tells someone about it all and they did believe
Would that make it better or should she just continue to deceive...
They said it was her fault that she was to blame
She knows she is bad so why shouldn't others feel the same...
Why would anyone bother with her in any way
When she cannot even begin to know what to say...
The tears falling down her cheeks now like the rain
Her hurt showing now showing all the pain...
She sees her past now like a movie slide show
And she remembers each and every blow...
She sees it all now every single one as they had their turn
Her fear growing now her stomach even beginning to churn...
She watches each and every incident close but from afar
She doesn't have to look to find the scar...
The pain becoming stronger now filling every pore
It shakes her shakes her right down to her core...
She feels every violation, feels every pain, hears every word said
And deep down inside she wishes she was dead...
She knows a way to end the hurt, pain and tears
But this is the thing she probably most fears...
The razor laying next to her calling for her to come
Knowing that in its use there is release at least some...
She grabs it now its edges glinting like the sun
And she makes the long, deep cuts the blood beginning to run...
She's so ashamed now the deed is done
Knowing that yet again they won...
She's thinking now of what she has heard people say
That she deserved it in each and every way...
She stays in the corner now away from the light
Knowing that she doesn't have the strength to fight...
Sad, cold, alone, afraid, and crying
She feels like in some ways she is dying...
You might ask how do you know her so well
How is it that you have all this to tell...
Well I will tell you why I know
Is it not plain or does it not show...
I know that little girl very well you see
I know because that little girl lives inside of me.....
My little girl, Kayla
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