29-Her Fault

January 19, 2009

“It was her fault,”
That’s what they say
When the grown-up man
Makes the little girl pay.

“The whore! She asked for it!”
Why don’t they know–
She pays a price.
(She pays with her soul).

Is he just an animal
With no control-
This adult male
Who makes pleasure his goal?

Or does he just choose
To have his own way,
Not caring that inside
She dies each day?

“It’s her fault,” they tell her.
“One mustn’t seduce
These hormone filled males.
They can’t pass up youth!”

Kill ’em. God!
Make them pay
With their saintly souls
Like she does each day.

Give them some pain
They can never forget
Like the guilt and the shame
That haunt her yet.

Wake them up
In the dark of the night
Wanting to vomit
Because of the fright.

Let the righteous old ladies
Pay, pay, pay, pay!
For the damning,
Ignorant things that they say.


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