Flowers on the grave.

With help from Robin Jones.

Little voices leave

A soft spoken word

with an important meaning

that often goes unheard.

Silent cries

in the middle of the night,

for words disregarded,

only to start a fight.

Tear drops fall

from a thousand faces

for the girl

that's left no traces.

Pictures on her casket,

flowers on the grave,

the memories of a girl,

no one cared to save.

Her mother is torn,

her father feels no pain.

Without her around,

he has so much more to gain.

He never wanted

a little girl anyway.

But her teachers never noticed,

and her mother wouldn't say.

Using various techniques,

she hid the bruises on her face.

The markings on her arms,

She covered in ribbons and lace.

Friendships didn't last

And her boyfriends never stayed.

She built a tower in her heart,

Slowly, the walls decayed.

But all of that doesn't matter,

He's ready for this strife,

She gave him what he wanted,

And he took her life.

Author's Note

I wrote this poem with my best friend, Robin. It was originally going to be a poem for a project we are working on. But it went into a whole new ball field. It tends to happen when we try to do something like this:) Now It is a poem to raise awareness for child abuse. Know the signs. Don't let another child get hurt. Read and enjoy, become aware. Oh! before I get side tracked here is a link to her profile:) http://www.writerscafe.org/BlackFairytales