As I hold her in my hands
I wonder what sort...

A seed must first be planted
before it grows...

He is my calm in the storm.
His arms buffer me...

She see herself in the mirror
For the first time she sees...

Picking up the pieces
again and again...

Survivor the definition of me
I am strong, I am smart...

Tears streaming down my face
she handled it with such grace...

They know, they know, she thought to herself, how...
She feels dirty and a shamed...