For at least nine months they had been dying
when finally, someone heard their desperate crying
Found in the bathroom of a Texas roadside, hotel
they were starving, filthy; the doctor mentioned the awful smell
As ribs and spines began to notably show
A tiny article in the newspaper noted their tale of woe
These innocent three were born into Hell
Their father, the Devil; who long before fell
One girl, twelve, defiled by his lust
had become merely a shell, made of dust
How could this travesty of life, have come to pass?
Such horrific pain; cutting hope, like daggers of glass
The sick evil Devil will burn; I am sure
But what of these three children; can they endure
a life born of sorrow, unloved from the start?
Will the holes ever heal that he burned in their hearts?
I think of the many ways they’ve been mistreated
and how horrendously they’ve been cheated
I want to scream aloud, but in their honor, I hold it inside
sadly wondering, would it have been better, had they already died?
This was written in honor of the abused children all over our world.
for One Shot Wednesday
