Upon writing this,
I wished the end of this,
As she sits down the cold corridor,
The door ajar fear in her soul, suddenly a voice in her mind blares asking for more than she can bare,
But she puts loop her eyes straight at the bright full moon,
While chanting withing her soul hoping someone above the skies would pick up her call,
vainly the bright full moon sheds blood
as her uncle grabs her hand and takes her for a beating,
And So she screams and shouts but nobody grabs her reach,
But;
she didn't cry because she felt weak
And hopeless ,
She didn't cry because her drunken uncle verbally abused her,
she didn't cry because she was raped,
No she cried simply cause she had no one to stand in her plight,
She never had anyone to call mother or father,
She cried cause she never had anyone to stand for her rights.
All her childhood she never experienced happiness but bitterness,
And now she's 18,
Unmarried and uneducated,
Her dreams so weak and crawl,
And still people talk and stalk,
They brag without help, they spot and never find the cause of her terror,
Today Rara sits on her bed,
But Shortly she hears the door hinges squeak and bust,
And so she tries to crawl down under her bed,
But her uncle grabs her leg,
Only to beat her black n blue,
A daily routine today finds its doom,
As Rara's voices scribbles help no more,
Ah what a dark day its being for an innocent soul that Feds in fear of being sexually, verbally, physically and mentally abused....