Huddled in a corner, her eyes
opened wide;
sits a little girl, trying to
hide.
'They can't find me here', she
whispers to herself;
'for I'll be as invisible as
dust underneath a shelf'.
Yet she knows it's inevitable,
for they always find her there;
curled up in a ball, paranoid
and scared.
They reach out to grab her, but
she only pulls away;
for she doesn't like the games
that the loved ones make her play.
They drag her into a cold, dark
room;
she cringes from the thought of
her impending doom.
Panic arrises within her, as their
hands begin to stray;
she closes her eyes in terror, and
then she begins to pray.
The ritual, as she calls it, doesn't
seem to last very long;
she says to herself, 'You'll get
through this, but you know you have
to be strong'.
After they are finished with her, she
always cries tears of shame;
she feels dirty and guilty and
wonders, who can stop the rain?
Ruth warren
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/who-can-stop-the-rain/
