The girl is smiling happily, she seems so very pleased.
But if you knew her story, you would feel ill at ease.
Her bruises are no accident, it's not just all a laugh.
Her father likes to hit her, and attack her in the bath.
Her mother doesn't understand, she works late every night.
And when her dad comes is the room, she nearly dies of fright.
She paints a pretty picture, though the picture is quite sick.
She writes all up her arm, with a razor that is slick.
The girl is falling rapidly, and this time she is pleased.
And now you know her story, you must feel ill at ease.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem