Little Girl

This girl stands in front of you.
Little girl, brown curls,
Tiny arms and legs.
Fully clothed, pink dress,
White tights and bows.

Her face is happy, her smile bright.
She makes you feel like home –
Pure, innocent, and clean.

Her shyness gives you hope
Of good still in the world.
You look at her, this little girl
With pink dress and curls.

He pulls the bows from her hair
Hard as he can,
With it comes her childhood dreams,
Imagination, creativitiy.

Then he rips off her shoes,
Taking her strength and courage yet too.

Next the pink dress is torn,
Straight down her front.
As it tears her eyes learn to cry
And her heart taught how to hurt.

She stands afraid in tights not too long,
For he takes them too.
Raping her of everything
That comes with dignity

Her mouth forms a scream
As her throat escapes “no”.
Forced to lay down
Terror grows as she is told
To lie beneath him here.

Letting himself inside,
Against her every need.
As he comes he takes the rest,
The rest that makes her –
Pure, innocent, and clean

This girl lays in front of you,
Too scared to stand.
Her body so scared it’s as if
She still stapled down
To the same floor as before.