If each child screams, at the same time, in the same place.
All will flock there, cradle their young, and give thanks to life.

If each child gasps all will turn their heads.

What happens when one child screams, under their grunting step-father.
on that forsaken flowered mattress....


silence happens.

The shutters close and the laughter is heard over the television

Oh please God, do you hear me..my tears fall, and I wipe my own eleven year old reflection.

What did you do to me , my father...you asked me one question, and then your body on mine...I didnt know what to do. Didnt know what it meant..
ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen...Silence silence silence

silence, 
silence.

What happens when one child is hung by their wrists...

their body grows up...

and the people say "It was a long time ago, it is not happening now..., you are large now."

Silence, silence, silence.

The years go through and through, 

the body ages and the mind never renews.

It lives in the muddy waters of hate

Feet tremble through fists remembered , help that came late

No, it wont ever be the same.
Mother that never came

the father who left and left only bruises..
the stepfather who stained the flowered mattress.

The mattress, the little eleven year old failed to describe,

For fear that it would all be a lie.

Oh beautiful brown haired girl...
your life is a work , unfurled...
in tragedy , unheard

Your voice, and screams were only one
Unheard, silenced, and forgotten until the sun

Rises on your rosy cheeks, your white dress...
Justice not given, you look up as your tears caress...

your countenance.. Young Ophelia forgotten..