"Misty"
My name is Misty. I am three.
My eyes are swollen. I cannot see.
I can't do wrong for the lesson I've learned.
For I am punished with cigarette burns.
Often I wake up and I'm all alone.
The house is dark and my parents aren't home.
They think I am an expensive joke.
They spend their money on acid and coke.
"You're an accident!" that's always their word.
For another beating I cannot endure.
Quiet! Quiet! I hear a car.
I think daddy's back from Charlie's bar.
As I lean against the wall,
I say,"Dear God let it end..."
My name is misty. I am three.
Last night my daddy murdred me.
Thougths by Lynne Ring1
I leave you with this thought....There is hope......let your voice be heard.
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