When they handed you to me, I knew this day would come
The day my resolve, would be completely undone
From that very first day, my head has been in a whirl
My precious little princess, my little baby girl
I look into your eyes and I often see me
Only at the age of eight, not five, not four or three
An age, a number, that can still make me shake
A number confirmed with your last birthday cake
Now you are the age the abuse began
At the hands of that awful, sick and despicable man
You are eight now, next birthday nine
Your age reminds me of my most terrible time
Sometimes, in conversation, I find it hard to engage
Some parts of me, are simply stuck at your age
I’m sure eight year old girls, physically, look much the same
But I’m pretty sure not all, carry this kind of shame
Thoughts and experiences, some we will never ever share
Consume me while doing things, like brushing your hair
Should I divulge to you what he did to me?
Why your grandad’s a man you will never ever see?
Sometimes I worry I’m not the mother you need
But it was him, you see, that planted that seed
I see you as your are now, innocent and pure
You simply have no idea, what I had to endure
I hope you don’t have my ability, to hear the unsaid
I’ve tried not to let on, what goes on in my head
I do it to make you happy; I don’t want you ever to be sad
I try to give you all that I never had
Wanting to protect you, from some of all that is true
I’ve kept some things from you, unsure what to do
I constantly wonder, when it is I will be free?
I remind myself often, you don’t know what happened to me
You don’t see the effect, or my silent falling tear
You argue with me, your strong personality clear
You can push every button, rub me the wrong way
But it will not be me that ever sends you away!
You are a busy bee, so full of life
You don’t need to know, that abuse is so rife
I want you to always be happy and free
So I’ve decided not to tell you, what he did to me.