(A dramatic poem)
Poor me, Poor me,
Lord Jesus P-L-E-A-S-E have mercy on me!
Another beating like the one last night,
Will send me straight to cemetery!
Is this my horrible destiny?
Since I’ve been abused from the tender age of three?
My stepfather blacked up my eye
He bruised up my knee
And robbed me of my virginity
He bragged that the violence would never end
Because on him for survival we depend.
I was glad to get married, Thought I’d finally be free
But my wicked husband keeps beating on me
Licks in the morning, noon and night
You’d think his blows were some tasty delight.
Added to the blows are insults that hurt
As he constantly tells me I have no worth.
But I am not alone in this tragedy
For millions of women are abused like me
And millions of girls are in captivity
Just longing for someone to set them free!
Is anyone willing to take a stand
To end violence against females in this fair land?
Is anyone willing to say, “no matter how
We’re tired of violence let’s END IT NOW?”
©2010 Gerene Joseph