by Tia
Silver camera.
Bright white light.
Child cries.
Dead of night.
Knowing that this isn’t right.
But not knowing if it’s wrong.
Poor, precious child,
Not safe in her own home.
The offender that hurts her,
The monster from her dreams,
Is the one who was supposed to protect her.
But nothing’s as it seems.
She can’t act like nothing’s hurt her.
She flinches when the teacher draws near.
But nobody seems to notice
Her silent streaming tears.
Day after day, she comes back to this place.
And night after night, she dreams of escape.
She’s so afraid.
But she won’t tell you why.
She can’t find the words
To speak the nightmares haunting her mind.
One person seems to care.
As she watches on with concern.
Wondering what happened to the energetic girl
Who once walked in this room.
The sweet, happy, baby girl
Who at one time walked these floors.
Precious honey’s lost her childhood.
That and so much more.
She’s afraid to speak her demons.
That would give them life.
As she sits and trembles
In the darkest part of night.
One person watches on
With care in her eyes.
She wants to know this little girl
Is going to be alright.
She speaks silent words
The teacher seems to understand.
And the teacher tries to help her
As much as she can.
Poor, precious child, scared, unsafe and alone.
No matter what anyone says,
She still has to go home.
And what awaits her there
Is worse than ever.
She knows that she should run away,
She knows to run for cover.
But that would only increase the anger
This demon feels inside.
So poor, precious honey,
She cowers but doesn’t hide.
If only someone could see
Behind the curtains one night,
Maybe they could save her from:
Silver Camera.
Bright White Light.
Beautiful!
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