The first thing I notice is her face
there is nothing but mists of grey.
She wears a dress all broken and worn,
and near her middle region is a word.
Mourn.

It changes to anger, and then to pain.
She looks up and notices me,
it's starts pouring down in rain.

"Why didn't you speak,
or scream for help?
Why'd you let him do this?"
I hope he goes to hell.

"He did it to you,
and now to me.
You know there's probably more
just waiting to speak
because you didn't care",
No.
"And you didn't try",
I did.
"You stayed quiet while he
ruined our lives."
STOP!

I'm sorry I stayed quiet!
I'm sorry I didn't try!
I'm sorry I only thought about myself
while he ruined our lives!

I'm sorry I'm not perfect!
I'm sorry I never checked
to see if there were anymore like me!
I don't deserve your respect!

I hate myself for it,
that I never acted out.
I wish, that night, I would've said something.
I should've screamed, I should've shout.

But I didn't, and I'm sorry
because maybe if I did
he never would've gotten ahold of you
and you'd still be an unheartbroken kid.

Maybe God's granted me mercy
by never seeing your face
because he knows if I did
I woudl've commited a redrum suicide
in that place.