Falling from a fire escape
As it gave way
Plummeting downward
Hurtling toward the sidewalk
Five stories below
She was somebody’s daughter
In the wrong place at the wrong time
Near a protest in Tehran
Struck by a random bullet from a sniper
She fell to the street, bathed in her blood,
And died with one eye open.
She was somebody’s daughter.
Bullied online, while teachers stood by
And did nothing
Repeatedly subjected to cyber-haters
They were cruel and relentless beyond belief
Pushed to the limit, she took her own life.
She was somebody’s daughter.
Tattoed, sex-trafficked,
Stripped of her identity,
Made into a commodity,
Used and abused,
Degraded and hollow inside,
She was somebody’s daughter.
Emaciated, starving toddler
During the famine in Sudan
Stumbles, collapses, and whimpers,
In the open bush,
Whilst a plump vulture waits expectantly nearby.
She was somebody’s daughter.
The firstborn of many brethren
Offered His life on the cross
For her, so she might live
She gladly accepted His offer
And was born into God’s loving family.
She became Somebody’s Daughter.
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