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THE ABATTOIR
It’s not a bed, but an abattoir,
It’s not a car-seat, but slaughter ground,
Not a lawn, but a river of blood,
Where she was treated as a sheep.
The butcher stood aside,
Waiting for his seventheenth victim,
His knife sharp, strong and straight,
Ready for the slaughter.
She came, unsuspecting,
She saw him but unperturbed
Greeting him, not knowing he was the butcher,
Until her thighs were forced open.
Screaming and yelling,
But no one to help,
Stained in her blood, she cried,
As the knife goes forcefully in,
Leaving her with stain and pains.
Trauma set in, heartbreak,
Blood below and tears above,
The murder of her dignity,
The killing of her self-esteem,
At the abattoir of the rapist.
woooooooo profound!
We can not stress too much that it is best to tell! No matter how painful, it may save someone else pain also. And women who cry rape when it is not a reality do even more damage...
Always love unconditionally without reason, and may you give without taking. Abundant Love, Peace, Hugs, Kisses, Joy, and most of all Faith are yours!!!
Pauletta Ruby Boggs
laws for victims
thanks for ur comment...what are laws to protect victims of rape these days? are they really working?