Ode to Me
A little girl just eight years old
Obedient and quiet, did as she was told
Heart beating so rapidly with fear
Nobody there to wipe her tears
Everyday at some point in time
He’d come to her to make him feel fine
It didn’t matter the time of day
No matter what, she had no say
People would come and people would go
A “good daddy”, he was just for show
I wondered if they knew me well
Could they see my cage, my private hell
I’d dream of ways to make it end
And him to prison they would send
I’d wish with all my heart he was dead
But then that’s wrong, or so I read
Three years of horror and pain
I’d never be the same again
Forever altered, I was ashamed
I hated the sound of my own name
Living with knowledge beyond my years
Crying inside these invisible tears
Years and years of trying to shed
The memory of what happened in my bed
I look back now on that sweet little girl
And when I do, I see a pearl
One who survived a storm of sand
And turned her life into something grand
So, look and listen to the little ones
Whose hearts are darkened by the sun
Look in their eyes and see their souls
Help them heal so that they’ll be whole
— Barb Jenkins, Author – Burying Jane Doe