My name is Misty,
I am but three
My eyes are swollen,
I can not see.
I must not be loved
for I am punished
by cigarette burns.
I must do right
I can't do wrong all week long.
When I awake,
I'm all alone
The house is dark
my folks are gone.
Deep down inside I feel bad
for Mom and Dad.
I'm really just an expensive joke.
no more, no less than speed or coke.
Be quiet now! I hear a car.
My dad is back from Charlie's Bar.
I hear his curse.
My name he calls.
I squeeze myself against the wall
On my bed.
It's too late.
His face is twisted into hate.
I feel the pain again and again.
Oh, Dear God! Please let it end

My name is MISTY.
I am but three.
Last night my father
Murdered me

In remembrance of all the children
who have died from abuse by their alcoholic
or drug addicted parents.

--Vanessa Gibbs--
7th grade
Seminary High School
Seminary, Mississippi

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