TEARS BEFORE BEDTIME

TEARS BEFORE BEDTIME

"Why can't I stay up?" the little girl said
as she stamped defiantly up the stairs to bed.
Four years old and dancing, with bells on her shoes,
a head full of memories of a sadness she can't lose.

Her pretty face is defaced with a spiteful glare,
she trusts no one - why should she - her life has been far from
fair.
Her brother Ryan is a happy child, after all he's only two,
with no memories of a father with a drug addiction and a mother
sniffing glue.

Bridget remembered the fear she felt as they closed her bedroom
door,
imprisoning her and Ryan before going off to score...
Left alone with the t.v. on loud just in case they cried,
Bridget was scared and under the covers she and Ryan used to
hide.

She was too young to know what praying was, but in her heart she
knew,
And she prayed that Ryan would stay asleep until dawn came breaking
through:
She would cuddle him and kiss him as she nursed the constant fear
That his sobbing wouldn't stop, and her dad would re-appear.

He had been angry when he had kicked in her door,
She had heard her mam scream, "N0!"
She didn't cry or shout as his belt buckle made its mark,
Frozen with fear, she curled up as everything went dark.

She lives with Sarah and Ian now, Ryan, he's there too,
She has her own Barbie doll bedroom, everything's pink and new.
Yet, each night, she fears bedtime though her door is now left ajar
-
She has nightmares as she remembers - she still bears the scars.

She doesn't speak very much - she's frightened her dad will
re-appear,
Though Sarah tells her she's safe now, she still feels the fear,
And expects she'll be sent back when they've had enough,
of this naughty sullen four year old who finds being happy tough.