She sits all alone, seeming so shy, so cold. You pass her by without a word or care in the world. You watch her cry and squirm. She sits at your table thinking to herself. She's smart but won't dare tell anyone else. You watch as the kids label her. Weird, stupid, ugly, even useless. She already knows. But do you? On the inside she's crying. Make it stop, oh she's dying. She screams in her heart, I'm so alone. I just need someone to understand and you won't unless you've seen through eyes like mine. I'm only six and I'm already a woman. 

    You look blankly at her, already worn out face. She sits so quietly. She's got some secret grace. You can't help but to smile because you know she's so brave. Now you softly touch her as you kneel next to her at your own grave. She knows that you're there, but to her it feels like you don't care. She sighs, and says to herself,"daddy there is so much you don't know about. Sometimes, I wish you did. I'm only twelve and I'm already a woman." You cry to yourself wanting to help, but she's so intimidating so you're patiently waiting. You've seen him touch her, want to hurt her. You just want to knock him out.

   Then in a blink of an eye, she walks across the stage. It's finally graduation day. She's smiling, wearing your name on her arm. They announce where she's going and that she's teaching second grade. She holds her diploma and faintlty waves. Down at the other end of the stage, you grab her hand and say,"I'm going to make it stop. Youre not alone anymore. You'll always have me to understand. I've seen more than enough through your eyes. I'm sorry I can't be there in person. But I'm in your heart and I'm so proud of you, my beautiful, intelligent, perfect woman and daughter.