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The little girl was  broken, battered and torn

and  had known too much heartache ever since she was born

No doubt she  loved her mommy , she planned to let her know

For folded in her pocket was a letter telling her so

Only she didnt get to give it; she was lifeless on the floor

It ended with the last beating  her little life was no more

“i didnt mean to do it.. she made me oh  so mad”

mommy explained to the policeman and then again to dad

How could you not see it.. she was just a little child

God came for yet another angel  another lily undefiled  

We need  to read  the signs we see each and every day

And report all the broken children we meet  along the way.

Sometimes we think we shouldnt  but it could mean  

 life or death

One telephone call made in private  could give back a

 wounded child’s breath.

Report child abuse..  

(c) Joy Pachowicz




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