A Woman Trapped In The body Of A Child Poem by Sharron Stephenson

The money that changed hands between him and them,
Meant they could hurt and rape me when ever they,
Called. The pause in numbers was said to let me breathe.
Day or night minute by second. Pass the parcel was,
How i was feeling. The thought of dying often popped,
Into my head as i lay there. The silent dreams and,
Wishes in which no-one could see.

As the switch coiled around my heart the motion of,
Hate entered my soul. The tears that stung my eyes,
As they rolled down the cheeks of a woman trapped,
In the body of a child