This is a poem written by Megan, a 16-year-old girl who was rescued from human trafficking and became a resident of Metanoia Manor.
While at Metanoia, she wrote this poem.
The First Lady asked if she could read it to people, and Megan said, “Yes, but read it to big groups of people who will help.”
She was the girl who took showers at the school gymnasium locker
room at 6:30 when it opened.
She was the girl who held the blame for a family that was broken, and a
daughter of a man whose kid wasn’t what he hoped for.
She was the girl whose favorite place seemed to be in the principal’s
She was the girl who didn’t worry, she was the girl that didn’t care.
She was the girl who cried herself to sleep, while holding on to a secret
that wasn’t hers to keep.
She was the girl who got anxiety, at the sound of any man’s voice.
She was the girl in 1st grade who already knew about boys.
She was the girl who grandma loved, but couldn’t understand cause she
didn’t comb her hair or pull up her pants.
She was the girl who was a clown, in the middle of class,
she was the girl that was okay if anyone happened to asked.
She was the girl who held her pain behind her smile as a mask.
She was the girl that needed help but didn’t feel worthy enough to ask.
She was the girl who hoped and prayed someone would notice when she
She was the girl who had friendships that never seemed to last.
She was the girl who held her pain in the form of a pipe of glass, she’d
smoke her worries away but for only a little while would last.
She was the girl that learned to hate by the time that she was 8, who was
hungry for true love but was provided nothing on her plate.
She was the girl used for an example of what not to be.
She was the girl who always hid but didn’t play hide and seek.