The Caged Dove

A little girl, with tears in her eyes,
kneels gently beside her bed;
she's either praying for safety, or
pleading that she was dead.

She says 'Amen' and tucks herself in,
her dolly in her hand;
and in her world, what she's soon to
face, she can't possibly understand.

She gets no goodnite kisses, no 'I
love you, don't you know';
and as the lights are turned off,
one by one, her fear begins to grow.

They always lay beside her, and then
the horror begins;
just as it has for many years now,
and as it will again.

She holds her dolly tightly, as if
it could protect her somehow;
but she knows she is at their mercy,
and the torture will take place now

She feels the need to make them happy,
for she desperately longs to be loved;
so she participates in their sick,
little games, as she feels like a
caged, little dove.

If she had wings, she would fly away,
to a place where there is no pain;
and her feelings would be those of
pride and self-worth, not guilt,
heartache and shame.

But no wings can be found on this
child, though to most she's a
precious dove;
but to the adults who hurt her every
night, she's an object, not to be loved.

by Ruth warren

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