She was only four,
When she came walking through my door.
She was the cutest sweetest little girl.
She came from a broken world.
She said when her daddy got mad,
would put his hand up her skirt.
Until it hurt,
I deserved to be hurt.
That I was to blame,
I felt my daddy’s hurtful shame.
I felt it until it burned.
At an early age,
That my dad had a hidden rage,
I was in his private cage.
My heart fell to the floor.
I never know what a child is going to say when they walk through my door.
Patricia Kelley's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
By, Patricia Kriegel-Kelley
Comments about this poem (Her Story by Patricia Kelley )
- Lisbon, Frank Avon
- Underground, Mark Webster
- Ophelia to Hamlet, David McLansky
- That All Our Beauty's Are The Same, Mark R. Elias
- Lust u me nu meneer, Madrason writer
- Depression, Alesia Leach
- Seashore Gratitude, Liilia Talts Morrison
- The Path Of The King, vince gullaci
- The Present, bryan wallace
- Vieze oren, Schone ogen, Madrason writer
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
- The Raven, Edgar Allan Poe
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
- Heather Burns