A Daughter Of The King…

Battered & scarred.  Does anyone care?

The shame I feel is more than I can bear.

I have no voice. I am of little worth.

No one loves me. No, not on this earth.

 

The perfect little circle. A black round spot.

A flaming Haitian coin.  – Ever so hot.

I’m so sorry momma. – Please forgive me.

She places it on my skin as I begin to scream.

 

Shaking and trembling the dark begins to fall.

It won’t be long now – my papa creeps down the hall.

I cry out to my mom who closes her ears.

He’s provided our food – our shelter for years.

 

Privileged  – my parents send me to school.

They offer my body as payment in full.

I’m just in 2nd grade – how could this be?

A well-accepted practice to offer of me.

 

A debt unpaid means time for a trade.

Parents offer up their daughter as a slave.

Beaten and robbed of any childhood.

Living a life that no little girl should.

 

A light in my darkness – someone stops by my home.

Smiling they ask me – if I’m all alone.

They reach out their hand & offer a gentle touch.

They say God sent them and He loves me so much.

 

You say there is a God that really loves me?

After what I’ve gone through I doubt that could be.

A father who wants to simply offer me love?

A daddy who has just an innocent touch?

 

A place where one day there will be no more tears?

Where night after night I won’t cripple in fear?

A place where I will hunger and thirst no more?

A place where I will no longer have bruises and sores?

 

Heaven you call it  – I just don’t believe.

The hell I live in is all I can see.

Shackled and chained and left on the floor.

Beaten, Abused – left waiting for more.

  

There is something on their face – perhaps a glow from above.

They tell me it’s true – Jesus wants to offer me love.

Little tears I can see – falling down from their eyes.

They’re crying for me? Maybe it’s not all lies.

  

They tell me they’re desperately praying for me.

They tell me they spend every night on their knees.

They say when God thinks of me – His heart begins to sing.

That I AM someone special. I’m the daughter of the King.

About these ads

Comments

  1. Anonymous says:

    Touching. Thank you. May the Lord use it for good.

  2. Anonymous says:

    Thank you for sharing, you just never know what another accepts or assumes as normal.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,460 other followers

%d bloggers like this: