My name is Misty,

I am but three,

my eyes are swollen,

I can not see.

I must not be bad,

I must not do wrong,or else I am locked

up all week long.

My legs are bruised,

it's hard to walk,

I know now when not to talk.

I try not to do wrong,

of this I've learned,

cause if I do

I'm punished with cigarette burns.

I know the guy up above,

every day I pray,

that he will take the pain away.

Sshh! Now I hear a car,

Daddy's home from Charlie's Bar.

I hear him cuss,

my name is called,

I squeeze my self agianst the wall.

Oh dear Lord, please let it end,

I don't want him to hit me agian.

Please be quiet,don't say a word...

Oh, No it's to late

I see it in his eyes,

all the hate.

My name was Misty,

I was but three,

Last night my daddy murdered me.

Used With Permission April 28, 2003