This Little Girl Poem by Ruth warren

She huddles against the dirty wall
hugging it ever so tight;
hopeing that he will choose not to do
the things, he did last night.

Her breathing is ever so shallow
no signs of life in her.
A technique she's developed with perfection,
to guard her twisted world.

'Maybe he will think i'm dead, ' she hopes
'For he can't see me breath,
perhapes for just one night,
he will turn around and leave'

Her wishes fade away in the night
as he climb into her bed
and any hopes of fooling him
are replaced with anquish and dread.

She knows too well the ritual,
it's the same as the night before.
The abuser will take what he wants from her
and no words will this child implore.

For she tries so hard to please him
and everyone she loved.
Yet all of the time she cringes
from their touch.

While she is huddled against the wall
never once looked in to he's eyes
She can almost she him smiling
as he rape this child of nine.

This little girl holds back the tears.
she knows she soon will cry
she utters not a single word.
As he enjoys the one he despise.

And when the torment is over,
he leave without a sound,
and the tears that she's been holding back,
fall silently to the ground.