Wounded Child

by Pato
(Washington State)

There once was a little girl,
Sent down from heaven above.
She came into a family,
That had no room for love.
She knew she was not wanted,
From a very early age.
Her father made her understand,
In his fits of rage.
One day he packed his bags and left,
He never called or wrote.
And birthdays came and went,
Without a phone call or a note.
Her mother started drinking,
She didn’t want that girl around.
So she went into her brothers room,
A friend she thought she’d found.
Then he started teaching her,
Things she never knew.
How to be a grown up,
And the kinds of things they do.
The little girl knew it was wrong,
She tried to get away.
He taught her not to fight again,
Or she would have to pay.
That little girl should not have been born,
She didn’t understand why.
She wanted the pain to go away,
So she decided to die.
That little girl is gone now,
The hurt has gone away.
She no longer has to suffer,
She has found a way.