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