A child, so young, with innocence confined,
To a world that seemed to judge and frown,
As if her very being was somehow unbound.
That 8-year-old, who did nothing wrong,
Her spirit pure, her heart strong,
Yet, she felt the weight of unseen pain,
A burden that no child should ever sustain.
She knew not how to hurt, her soul so pure,
But she could sense the things she will yet again endure,
A sensitive soul only wanting to be loved,
Then begged for help but so ruthlessly shoved.
Self-inflicted wounds, a leather belt's sting,
A punishment for being touch; an impure being,
Her body, a prison she despairs,
A burden she must bear, a heart that can't repair
Years passed, and I shut her down,
Never to be alive again; to save the breakdown.
In your company, she found a voice.
She lived her childhood in rejoice.
Your kindness, caring love brought her back to life,
In your promising words she found her light.
She clinged to you; never to go back,
Howling in pain; in your arms tightly wrapped.
Believing her chance at life again,
Scars healed; bidding farewell to pain.
Dreams of a future. walking on the shore; your hand held tight.
Believe me ! never before she felt such peaceful goodnights
Your words so beautiful: voice so nurturing,
You saved a life; that ended the suffering.
But today I saw the little one hide once more,
Underneath the table, tears she pours,
Wishing to disappear, never to be seen,
A touch of care:, she now painfully screams.
Innocence; she has now suppressed
When her hunger to be loved, was called "obsessed".
That 8-year-old, so innocent and kind,
She surrendered to you:, trusted so blind
She clinged to you: to fill three decades unloved,
Trusting each time your heartfelt words.
Did she wrong you so much; to be unloved again,
She was just a child; not a toy or game.
Written by Vrushali Deshpande
