To SylviaMature

I don't usually write a summary but this is a poem to Sylvia Likens, a tortured girl who died in 1963. I think the recent finding of Amanda Berry spurred this.

I don’t know you

But your death and those that followed yours surround me

I encountered many like you

Children play, they run across the circus yard

But they played a deadly game with you


My dreams haunt me because it’s your story

Your reality, I write in my nightmares

So I don’t know why I write this to you

Dead girl, though your legacy lives on


Tied in a basement you stood

They hated you so they created you as through a glass darkly

Branded you

And yet your neighbors did nothing

Yet your tormentors, children themselves, hurting their own, did nothing to stop this


I have no idea why I write this poem

If only to establish an oath to God

If He sets me on the path

I shall save the children like you


Cover the lies with your eyes burning with truth

For mine are wide and open

Lost saddened little girl walks to me in my dreams

Asks if the world is dead and rotting

Or if she’ll live another day


I wake up without a answer, sweating

I can’t guarantee that you’ll be safe


But I’ll die trying anyways


Your tormenter was let free on parole my dear

But died of cancer soon after

Lady pain, let me know that your cries for others won’t last forever

The End

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