The room began to spin,
The blood began to pour...

This is a poem,
About the day she died...

No-one looked at what she did,
Or listened to what she said...

My stomach lurched as he said those words,
"Your daughter's going to die.&quot...

He bit my neck,
Until it was bleeding and sore...

I must be stupid,
I must be bad...

I sit and think carefully,
Thoughts pacing my mind...

I feel sorry for you,
So I'll pretend...