She sits in the corner, scared and alone,
begging for God to call her home.
Her Daddy stumbles in, he’s drunk yet again,
she sobs, anticipating the coming pain.
He yells out for silence, with a voice so coarse,
then he picks her up with unshakeable force.
She screams in fear, and pleads for the ground,
but he squeezes her till she’s bereft of sound.
He slams her small body into the door,
and hits her as she cries, “Daddy, please, no more!”
The blood is congealing on her body and face,
and at least two bones have been pulled out of place.
Her Daddy is furious; he’s seeing red,
tomorrow he won’t recall what was done, what was said.
He’ll shower her with presents, with kisses and love,
but it will only last till he returns from the pub.
Her Mummy couldn’t care less; she’s never there,
the drugs keep her going; to see her is rare.
And even if she is home, she doesn’t hug or caress,
she just blames: “You’re the reason my life is a mess.”
The girl is now screaming, calling out for some aid,
she doesn’t care in what form; she just wants to be saved.
She senses she’s dying, but nobody comes,
she can hear her heart thumping like a great pair of drums.
And as her last breath expires, and she goes with a sigh,
she’s not at all afraid, but relieved to die.
No matter how drunk her Daddy is, he’ll remember this day,
for he killed his own daughter in this sickening way.
All her short life, she’s been so brave,
now from this hell she’s been living she’s finally saved.
She will never again feel scared or alone...
for God’s taken pity, and called her home.
begging for God to call her home.
Her Daddy stumbles in, he’s drunk yet again,
she sobs, anticipating the coming pain.
He yells out for silence, with a voice so coarse,
then he picks her up with unshakeable force.
She screams in fear, and pleads for the ground,
but he squeezes her till she’s bereft of sound.
He slams her small body into the door,
and hits her as she cries, “Daddy, please, no more!”
The blood is congealing on her body and face,
and at least two bones have been pulled out of place.
Her Daddy is furious; he’s seeing red,
tomorrow he won’t recall what was done, what was said.
He’ll shower her with presents, with kisses and love,
but it will only last till he returns from the pub.
Her Mummy couldn’t care less; she’s never there,
the drugs keep her going; to see her is rare.
And even if she is home, she doesn’t hug or caress,
she just blames: “You’re the reason my life is a mess.”
The girl is now screaming, calling out for some aid,
she doesn’t care in what form; she just wants to be saved.
She senses she’s dying, but nobody comes,
she can hear her heart thumping like a great pair of drums.
And as her last breath expires, and she goes with a sigh,
she’s not at all afraid, but relieved to die.
No matter how drunk her Daddy is, he’ll remember this day,
for he killed his own daughter in this sickening way.
All her short life, she’s been so brave,
now from this hell she’s been living she’s finally saved.
She will never again feel scared or alone...
for God’s taken pity, and called her home.
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