Child Abuse


There's a girl I knew,
A really beautiful girl,
With dirty blond hair,

A really young girl,
This girl was seven years old,
She had a sad tale,

She told me the tale,
The hour before she died,
That she was abused,

Her mother got drunk,
The girl hid under the bed,
Her dad got shot,

She heard a gun CRACK,
And a loud THUNK on the ground,
And saw bright blood,

Her mom went crazy,
The mother killed her true love,
And blamed the poor girl,

The girl was punished,
For no actual reason,
And was left with scars,

Her mom got worse,
And gave the girl more bruises,
And fresher black eyes,

After she told me,
I raced to my mom and dad,
And told them the tale,

We called the police,
They were told the story too,
And drove to her house,

But when they got there,
They were all too late to help,
'Cause the girl was dead.