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Mar 2015
No one sees the pain she hides
The black and blue, she tries to disguise

Memories are few of happier days
For this little girl once named Kaye

Her fathers pride, her mothers pearl
Become distant memories for this little girl

A skinny bag of merely bones
A life of hell become her home

Her dad a drunk, her mother enraged
She's released the animal once caged

She's stabs her once, but hits her plenty
The tears are few, but the bruises are many

She uses food as a tool
But this little girl is no one's fool

She begs and steals for a crust of bread
The once love for her is now dead

One day or even up to four
The food game she uses on her

This little girl once named Kaye
Finds her will and will not cave

The nurse, her teachers were the ones who cared
To find her an out that no one before had dared

The police involved, her life now changed
A beaten and battered child no longer enslaved
Brooke
Written by
Brooke  24/F
(24/F)   
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