• My name is Chrissy, and I am three.
    My only wish is that my daddy would love me.
    Then maybe, just maybe mommy would hug me.
    He made me blind so I cannot see the bruises and blood all around me.
    I guess daddy hates me, cause’ he hits me real hard.
    Yet still no one see’s him throw me around the yard.
    Yes, daddy’s drunk, and harshly mad.
    Yes, mommy’s crying, I can tell she’s sad.
    I run to the door but it’s locked. I fall to the floor and hear a loud gun shot.
    Mommy gets quiet, as does everything.
    I hear daddy become still.
    Daddy yelled for me to shush.
    But there is still the rush of words, “Mommy? Where’s Mommy!?”
    He kicked me and hit me and made me say sorry.
    But then I knew it was far too late.
    My cries grew dull, and now I no longer have to lie.
    I’m motionless and numb as he says his cruel goodbyes.
    Down I go into the icy cold river, no more shall I shiver.
    Because my name was Chrissy, I was only three.
    That was the night daddy murdered me.