A friend of my daughters', came
by Ruth warren
home with her today;
yet she did not speak a word, as
they began to play.
An instant burden, in my heart I
for this child, who I never once
heard giggle or laugh.
I baked them some cookies, and
poured them some juice;
when I offered them to her, she
I listened from outside, of my
daughters' bedroom door;
I heard this child whisper, 'Why
do you want me here for?
My Mommy hates me, she told me
she said there was no room in her
life, for a worthless kid.
She calls me ugly, and beats me
till I've bled;
and there are so many nights, I've
went hungry to bed.
She's punished me, in such awful
and tells me that she wished, I
would just run away.
I once made her so mad, she just
and the doctor told me, I can never
have any babies.
But your' Mommy's nice, I can tell
she loves you;
cause she baked you some cookies,
and gave you some juice'.
I didn't hear my daughter, say even
she just listened as her friend, told
of her shattered world.
I softy walked away, with tears in
for I too shared the tears, that
this little girl cried.