They never want anything from her,
until they come to her door;
And when they leave, her tender heart bleeds,
for there's nothing they want, once more.
Even though she is young, she remembers,
the shame and guilt they have brought;
She blames herself for their mistakes,
and she wishes that she were not.
Each night since she can remember,
their nightly ritual's go on;
They climb in bed beside her,
she wonders what she's done wrong.
With roaming hands, they touch her,
in places that make her feel weak;
She utters not a single word,
she can't find the words to speak.
They continue to touch this child,
she endures this in heartache and pain;
"Adult Games," they call their playtime;
as the child lies there in shame.
And when at last they're finished,
they leave her alone in the night;
She doesn't know what just happened,
she just ***** her thumb as she cries.