Victimized ( I.P. )
By skinner_jennifer
- 2709 reads
Tortured lessons are what I learnt that day,
the residence said a so called safe haven...
to howl at the moon would have been a safer bet,
madness resides in every corner,
I had to learn quick to survive
fear was not an option -
don't stare...lips shut tight,
only inner thoughts prevail -
nowhere to hide feelings...
smile or I just may cry... a
black cloud then to veil me -
like a clown my mask goes on,
hideous granny with knife at my throat...
glares angrily - beady eyed into my face,
"scum bag," with arrogance, she calls me,
I said nothing - just stared at the floor,
my purse went missing -
all my money gone...
her pimp came calling
down the fire escape
they were bound,
off to do business
the sort not allowed,
though fearful and frightened
in a strange kind of way...
these battered - tortured
victims... became friends and
companions, who helped to make
me the person I am today, in
that Womens Refuge so far away.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
Jennifer, Might I suggest
- Log in to post comments
Hi there, Jenny, a brave and
- Log in to post comments
Very brave writing Jenny and
- Log in to post comments
Good morning Jennifer, hope
- Log in to post comments
Great poem, Jenny! But yes,
- Log in to post comments