“Easy to love a puppy,”
that once young girl,
now a woman, mutters
though puffy lips,
swollen, peeling, blue.
Her face is scarred,
her womb won’t
ever bear a child,
a bitter grimace
ticks her squinted eyes.
Streets call her home.
“Glad so,” she moans.
No more will promises
be broken. No more her
womaness abused.
Lack of teeth and smelly clothes
ward off all lustful gropes,
pushes to the ground,
assaults between her legs,
and strikes upon her jaws.
She holds not even sack
with simple things,
a brush to smooth her hair.
She wants no interest,
no invite to attack.
Alone she wanders
without a plan,
holding tight to
threads of time
until an end she finds.
How could that smiling
bright-eyed girl,
secure in Daddy’s arms,
have come upon so many bruises,
had dreams so cruelly smashed?
For all the children born,
hope is surely not enough.
A lesson must be learned.
We need infect with love
a desire to protect.
No lovable little puppy
should become a rabid dog.
|
Saturday, July 21st, 2012
Chicago
IL
USA
|
