I feel shame when I look into the mirror;
I feel bitter to see what I’ve become.
I can’t tell my friends or family; who would believe me?
I can’t tell the police, they will only mock me.
I am that girl who people describe as little;
But you really don’t have a clue what I’ve been through.
The ones who are supposed to protect me;
End up taking advantage of me.
At sixteen I was called a pretty teen;
But daily I deal with low self-esteem.
Used and abused by the ones I look up to;
I being pushed, and might take my life if it comes to.
Marriage was supposed to be my sweet haven;
Nothing else to compare except God’s Holy Heaven.
But in the arms of the one I truly loved;
I suffer the pain of his fist as thick as gloves.
And when he is not hitting me;
He speaks uncaring cold hearted words, stinging me.
For better fore worse was the vow I took;
But better remains oblivious,
As this journey keeps growing worse.
I am that woman next door;
We even go to the same market, in the same bus;
I am that girl in your classroom;
Who you think is being pompous in your point of view;
I am the little girl in the playground;
All by myself, ensuring no boy is around.
I yearn to tell my story
That justice would take the glory
But will you accept back in society
And not point your fingers back at me….
I beckon on you;
Come to my rescue.
Help tell my story;
That justice would take the glory.
Else I’ll cry; till I have no more tears in my eyes.