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Who will speak for the children?  Who will hear them?
                                      
Take a stand
                    
Only you can make a difference


  Misty 

My name is Misty
I'm only 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 weren't ugly,
Then maybe my mommy
Would still want to hug me.

I can't speak at all
I can't do a wrong
Or else I'm locked up
All the day long.

When I awake
I'm all alone
The house is dark
My folks aren't home

When my mommy does come
I'll try and be nice,
So maybe I'll get just
One whipping tonight.

Don't make a sound!
I just heard a car
My daddy is back
From Charlie's Bar.

I hear him curse,
My name he calls,
I press myself
Against the wall.

I try and hide
From his evil eyes,
I'm so afraid now
I'm starting to cry.

He finds me weeping,
He shouts ugly words,
He says it's my fault
That he suffers at work.

He slaps me and hits me
And yells at me more,
I finally get free
And I run for the door.

He's already locked it
And  I start to bawl,
He takes me and throws me
Against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor
With my bones nearly broken,
And my daddy continues
With more bad words spoken.

"I'm sorry!", I scream,
But it's much too late.
His face has been twisted
Into unimaginable hate.

The hurt and the pain
Again and again.
Oh please God, have mercy!
Oh please let it end!

And he finally stops
And heads for the door,
While I lay there motionless
Sprawled on the floor.

My name is Misty
And I am but three,
Tonight my daddy
Murdered me.

                 
                                Author~ Misty Nicole Ramsey





Child Abuse Hotline  1 800 2525400
  For additional information about
     how to prevent child abuse and
      neglect, please visit this site.

  
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If you know about a child who is in immediate risk  or danger, please call
           your local police.  If you have any information on  a missing child,
                        or to report a  sighting  call 1 800 THE LOST.
When I read this poem, it brought tears to my eyes. I had to share it with you.  A      child should never have to live in fear.    
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