I read this and had to pass it on.
my name is sarah
i am three
my eyes are swollen
i cannot see
i must be stupid
i must be bad
what else could have made
my daddy so mad
i wish i were better
i wish i werent ugly
then maybe my mommy
would still wanna hug me
i cant do a wrong
i can't speak at all
یا else i locked up
all دن long
when i wake up
im all alone
the house is dark
my folks arent home
when my mommy does come home
i try to be nice
so maybe i'll just get
one wipping tonight
i just heard a car
my daddy is back
from charlie's bar
i heard him curse
my name is called
i press myself
against the wall
i try to hide
from his evil eyes
im so afraid now
im starting to cry
he finds me weeping
calls me ugly words
he says it's my fault
he suffers at work
he slaps and hits me
and yells at me more
i finally get free
and run for the door
he's already locked it
i start to bawl
he takes me and throws me
against the hard wall
i fall to the floor
my bones nearly broken
and my daddy continues
with مزید bad words spoken
"im sorry,"i scream
but it's much to late
his face has been twisted
into an unimaginable shape
the hurt and pain
again and again
oh please god have mercy
oh please let it end
and finally he stops
and heads for the door
while i stay there motionless
sprawled on the floor
my name is sarah
i am three
and tonight my daddy
murdered me
and آپ can help
sickens me to the soul
and if آپ read this
and don't pass it on
i pray to the gods for your forgivness
cuz آپ would have to be
one heartless person
to not be affected سے طرف کی this poem
and because آپ are affected
do something about it
so i ask آپ to do two things:
get this to the highest rated فہرست so everyone can read this
AND IF آپ AGAINST CHILD ABUSE PASS THIS ON
my name is sarah
i am three
my eyes are swollen
i cannot see
i must be stupid
i must be bad
what else could have made
my daddy so mad
i wish i were better
i wish i werent ugly
then maybe my mommy
would still wanna hug me
i cant do a wrong
i can't speak at all
یا else i locked up
all دن long
when i wake up
im all alone
the house is dark
my folks arent home
when my mommy does come home
i try to be nice
so maybe i'll just get
one wipping tonight
i just heard a car
my daddy is back
from charlie's bar
i heard him curse
my name is called
i press myself
against the wall
i try to hide
from his evil eyes
im so afraid now
im starting to cry
he finds me weeping
calls me ugly words
he says it's my fault
he suffers at work
he slaps and hits me
and yells at me more
i finally get free
and run for the door
he's already locked it
i start to bawl
he takes me and throws me
against the hard wall
i fall to the floor
my bones nearly broken
and my daddy continues
with مزید bad words spoken
"im sorry,"i scream
but it's much to late
his face has been twisted
into an unimaginable shape
the hurt and pain
again and again
oh please god have mercy
oh please let it end
and finally he stops
and heads for the door
while i stay there motionless
sprawled on the floor
my name is sarah
i am three
and tonight my daddy
murdered me
and آپ can help
sickens me to the soul
and if آپ read this
and don't pass it on
i pray to the gods for your forgivness
cuz آپ would have to be
one heartless person
to not be affected سے طرف کی this poem
and because آپ are affected
do something about it
so i ask آپ to do two things:
get this to the highest rated فہرست so everyone can read this
AND IF آپ AGAINST CHILD ABUSE PASS THIS ON
I really love to write.I've done it ever since I was only 4.
My mother used to write things like stories یا poems and letters.My mom inspired me to write things now.
Writing is really fun to do and I love it alot!Sometimes I write things like my mom did.
Whenever I feel mad I usually write things in the Write میل ای on the computer and write things that have been on my mind for a couple of days,then I erase them because I always feel better after I do that and I usually feel much calmer and I get it out of my system.
Since I really love writing so much I was thinking that maybe I could become an مصنف when I grow up. :)
I wouldn't just write poetry یا stories,I would also like to write مضامین for other people to read (just like I'm writing one right now).But of course I would write it on a piece of paper.I would also like to write new کتابیں for kids.
Again I really love to write and it's sort of special to me in my life.
My mother used to write things like stories یا poems and letters.My mom inspired me to write things now.
Writing is really fun to do and I love it alot!Sometimes I write things like my mom did.
Whenever I feel mad I usually write things in the Write میل ای on the computer and write things that have been on my mind for a couple of days,then I erase them because I always feel better after I do that and I usually feel much calmer and I get it out of my system.
Since I really love writing so much I was thinking that maybe I could become an مصنف when I grow up. :)
I wouldn't just write poetry یا stories,I would also like to write مضامین for other people to read (just like I'm writing one right now).But of course I would write it on a piece of paper.I would also like to write new کتابیں for kids.
Again I really love to write and it's sort of special to me in my life.
Crack! Snap! Crack!
Running through the woods barefoot is sooooo not fun. Because one منٹ آپ are in the pool and the اگلے آپ are running for your life from who knows what. Let me start from the beginning.
One late summer دن I was getting the mail. There was a letter for me.
آپ have been accepted at Burkly Spy School for boys and girls.
That was all the letter said. I didn't apply for a school, did I ?
I went to our pool to think it over and when I hopped in the pool
I saw a figure in the shadows. ''Who are you?" I screamed. When the person leaped at me I took off into the woods. I heard someone yell code red and then the person threw a punch. I recovered quickly and threw a punch. He fell to the ground a I took off again. Then I stopped when I thought no one was following me. Every thing went dark.
Running through the woods barefoot is sooooo not fun. Because one منٹ آپ are in the pool and the اگلے آپ are running for your life from who knows what. Let me start from the beginning.
One late summer دن I was getting the mail. There was a letter for me.
آپ have been accepted at Burkly Spy School for boys and girls.
That was all the letter said. I didn't apply for a school, did I ?
I went to our pool to think it over and when I hopped in the pool
I saw a figure in the shadows. ''Who are you?" I screamed. When the person leaped at me I took off into the woods. I heard someone yell code red and then the person threw a punch. I recovered quickly and threw a punch. He fell to the ground a I took off again. Then I stopped when I thought no one was following me. Every thing went dark.
My type of emotions conveys
onto how i'm really feeling inside,
my thoughts mainly consist on the
back-ground of my poetry.
As my addictive persona
starts to silhouette every-
word that i've written out
the nature of my emotions
starts to unravel at every-
line,
My Poetry has a piece
of imagination within it-
self, the artwork of
each line has it's own
significant meaning.
Where the beauty is
that's where the poetry
lives, it lives within my soul,
as i carry each and every-line
with care, i start to share a
piece of me inside every-
lyrical line that i compose.
onto how i'm really feeling inside,
my thoughts mainly consist on the
back-ground of my poetry.
As my addictive persona
starts to silhouette every-
word that i've written out
the nature of my emotions
starts to unravel at every-
line,
My Poetry has a piece
of imagination within it-
self, the artwork of
each line has it's own
significant meaning.
Where the beauty is
that's where the poetry
lives, it lives within my soul,
as i carry each and every-line
with care, i start to share a
piece of me inside every-
lyrical line that i compose.