it's a heart wrenching account of domestic violence in a poverty stricken house. sadly enough domestic violence is a harsh reality and according to estimates 3 out of every 5 (or so) women in the world are battered. plz. go forward and voice thy opinions
HER MAN HAS AGAIN BRUTALISED HER KIND.
SHE BEARS THE TRAUMA SADLY
AS, SADLY SHE HAD BORNE ALL HIS KIDS
HE SEVERES HER WITH A CUDGEL MADLY
THE CHILDREN UNDER THE BED HID.
SHE SCREAMS NOT
NEITHER SHE CRIES
TEARS COME NOT NOW
HOWEVER SHE TRIES.
HER BODY IS A PERMANENT BLUE NOW
THE COLOR LEFT BY EACH ROW.
SHE SITS THERE, NUMB
AS IF PRAYING
TO THE INJURIES MAY SHE SUCCUMB.
BOUND TO THE DEVIL OF HER MAN
WHEN ONLY EIGHT,
HER MA SAID -
THIS IS YOUR GOD, YOUR MAN
WE CLOSE TO YOU NOW OUR GATE.
OBEY HIM, WORSHIP HIM,
TILL DEATH KNOCKS,
LOVE WHAT HE LOVES
HATE WHAT HE HATES.
YEARS HAVE PASSED
THE FEEL IS LIKE DECADES,
SHE HAS BEEN REDUCED
TO A PLAYMATE.
HER MAN STILL COMES DRUNK
TO SHOW HIS SHADES,
HE THINKS SHE'S HIS SLAVE,
AND SO, WHATEVER WORST
HE COULD GIVE HER,
HE GAVE.
HE DIDN'T EARN A PENCE TODAY
THE STOVE LIES ICE-COLD
HUNGRY KIDS PEEP FROM UNDER THE BED
WITH RED EYES, AND CHEEKS RED.
HE TAKES BY THE PLAIT
HER HEAD,
AND SMASHES IT TO THE WALL;
ONCE-TWICE-THRICE, A KID COUNTS
AS THE SMASHES BECOME
MORE PRONOUNCED.
HE SLAPS HER
WITH HIS STONE-HARD HAND
HE KICKS HER
TILL SHAKES THE LAND.
SHE GOES PALE, HER BREATH STOPS
TO THE FLOOR, NOW
SHE DROPS.
HER MAN STEPS ON HER RIB-CAGE
THEN LEAVES THE HOUSE IN A RAGE
HE WON THE WAR HE HAD WAGED.
SLOWLY, THE KIDS COME OUT OF HIDING
TEARS TRAIL DOWN THE CHEEK, GLIDING
THEY PROBABLY SUFFERED THE TRAUMA
MORE THAN MA DID.
BUT WHEN HER BOYS GREW UP
THEY SHOWED TO THEIR CONSORTS
EVEN DARKER SHADES ;
AND, WHEN HER GIRLS DID
THEY WERE EVEN MORE SILENT, A SPECTATOR.
AND SO WOMANHOOD PERSEVERES TILL DATE
LONGING FOR A BREATHER,
FOR DARKNESS TO ABATE.
Poetry by sania
Read 1132 times
Written on 2006-11-06 at 20:43
Tags Women Violence
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HER DILEMMA
UNSPOKEN WORDS, HANG ON HER MINDHER MAN HAS AGAIN BRUTALISED HER KIND.
SHE BEARS THE TRAUMA SADLY
AS, SADLY SHE HAD BORNE ALL HIS KIDS
HE SEVERES HER WITH A CUDGEL MADLY
THE CHILDREN UNDER THE BED HID.
SHE SCREAMS NOT
NEITHER SHE CRIES
TEARS COME NOT NOW
HOWEVER SHE TRIES.
HER BODY IS A PERMANENT BLUE NOW
THE COLOR LEFT BY EACH ROW.
SHE SITS THERE, NUMB
AS IF PRAYING
TO THE INJURIES MAY SHE SUCCUMB.
BOUND TO THE DEVIL OF HER MAN
WHEN ONLY EIGHT,
HER MA SAID -
THIS IS YOUR GOD, YOUR MAN
WE CLOSE TO YOU NOW OUR GATE.
OBEY HIM, WORSHIP HIM,
TILL DEATH KNOCKS,
LOVE WHAT HE LOVES
HATE WHAT HE HATES.
YEARS HAVE PASSED
THE FEEL IS LIKE DECADES,
SHE HAS BEEN REDUCED
TO A PLAYMATE.
HER MAN STILL COMES DRUNK
TO SHOW HIS SHADES,
HE THINKS SHE'S HIS SLAVE,
AND SO, WHATEVER WORST
HE COULD GIVE HER,
HE GAVE.
HE DIDN'T EARN A PENCE TODAY
THE STOVE LIES ICE-COLD
HUNGRY KIDS PEEP FROM UNDER THE BED
WITH RED EYES, AND CHEEKS RED.
HE TAKES BY THE PLAIT
HER HEAD,
AND SMASHES IT TO THE WALL;
ONCE-TWICE-THRICE, A KID COUNTS
AS THE SMASHES BECOME
MORE PRONOUNCED.
HE SLAPS HER
WITH HIS STONE-HARD HAND
HE KICKS HER
TILL SHAKES THE LAND.
SHE GOES PALE, HER BREATH STOPS
TO THE FLOOR, NOW
SHE DROPS.
HER MAN STEPS ON HER RIB-CAGE
THEN LEAVES THE HOUSE IN A RAGE
HE WON THE WAR HE HAD WAGED.
SLOWLY, THE KIDS COME OUT OF HIDING
TEARS TRAIL DOWN THE CHEEK, GLIDING
THEY PROBABLY SUFFERED THE TRAUMA
MORE THAN MA DID.
BUT WHEN HER BOYS GREW UP
THEY SHOWED TO THEIR CONSORTS
EVEN DARKER SHADES ;
AND, WHEN HER GIRLS DID
THEY WERE EVEN MORE SILENT, A SPECTATOR.
AND SO WOMANHOOD PERSEVERES TILL DATE
LONGING FOR A BREATHER,
FOR DARKNESS TO ABATE.
Poetry by sania
Read 1132 times
Written on 2006-11-06 at 20:43
Tags Women Violence
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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