She has heard of hope
An entity from which one cope
She has heard of peace
A state of utter and total release
She has heard of belonging
A space in time to own
She has heard of all these things
Yet she herself
Have never received

She has seen miracles and light
The darkness that flee into night
She has seen care and safety
Yet she herself
Have never felt lately

She has heard only hatred
Thoughts so violent
She is wrapped in fear
And enclosed in silence
Surely this must be her own doing?

She fears the nights
When expected he comes
His presence and stance
Wrapped in violence
As he mocks her innocence
She closes her eyes for tollerance

And she fights no more
Though shes heard of survival
He is stronger than her
An unwelcomed rival
And she cries tears stained
By the blood on her face
As she sits and waits
For night to turn into day
And for "normal" to function
Isnt this my own way?

She has heard the song
That a nightingale sings
Oh how ever little of
Joy it still brings

Her frailty and youth
Keeps her far from the truth
In her short life lived
She has yet to fulfill
And it almost feels
As if life maybe will be
Better than what she has heard
And seen