Just Another Story

Once sat a tiny girl
Upon her writing desk.
Wrote unto the paper,
Oh boy, I'm in a mess!

Daddy's gone away from home
And Mommy's gone to drinking.
Sister's started a bordello
While it feels like I'm sinking.

Don't know where Daddy went;
Maybe to the market?
When I went to ask Mommy,
All I saw was blood on the carpet!

I love him so, why won't he come back?
He promised me a pink pony.
Him and mama were always fighting.
Doesn't he love me?

Mommy stands there laughing
At times when I want to cry.
I could smell the Brandy on her breath
And thought her words coulda been a lie.

On good days, she'd dress me up
To take me to Day Care
Where five or six really tall men
Take every inch of me in with their stare.

They hold me tight and push me down
As the hike up my skirt and rip off my tights.
Screaming, crying, clawing, biting.
I promise I won't give up the fight.

They slap me hard against the wall
As I now feel a sharp, poking pain.
I lied to myself and looked around
And saw there was no hope to be gained.

Seeing other little boys and girls
Being tortured, mercilessly,
Brings on silent tears as the clean me up
And onward home to a less than sober Mommy.

The process repeats day in and day out
For longer than I can count.
At what price, oh Diary,
Will justice cover the damaged amount?

Men are men and women are women,
Just as boys and girls alike.
We may populate the world,
But we're all pretty useless, right?

I'm so meek and small;
I make no absolute difference.
A hopeless hooch, a lost soul.
Here, take this for instance:

When lies cover what really happened to Daddy
And mama can't stand up straight;
When you'd do anything to get somewhere,
Where's the respect; honor? When's it all too late?
And your sister brings home
Strange men at all hours of the night;
Where's the courage to run away from them,
To actually maintain a fight?

The rain pours down and drenches me
While I become soaked and sodden.
Does no one actually care about me
Or the fact that I'm so dispicably rotten?

Tears mark the paper as she folds it in half.
Does she hear it? It's raining again.
She goes to the window pane and opens them up
Thinking that there's nothing she can mend.

Taking a rope that's tied to tight.
Walking a metaphorical street; no turns or bends.
Circling her neck with delicate grace
She jumps to her miserable end.

On the front of the sheet of paper
That's folded in half, right down the middle.
Written a tiny message for all to see:
"Why won't anyone keep me? Signed, Missy Worthless Little"