Poetry

She [GBV]

She was always referred to as someone’s sister,
Her parents’ daughter,
Her brother’s keeper,
And yet always wondering who would keep her…


Watch your back young sister, your brother is here, go back to your cell, maybe if you wear a long enough dress he won’t lay a finger on you, don’t forget to cover your ankles and wrists, you can never be too sure, but oh wait, Muslim women get raped too…


I know it’s a party but don’t drink alcohol, you might be too unconscious to say no, but is “no” ever enough? Don’t wear tight outfits, that look like they belong on babies, but oh wait even when babies wear that perfect fit, they get raped too…
Our voiceless cries go unheard in this love forsaken world,
So all we can really do is pray…

But while her mother prayed for her, her father preyed on her, and society? Too blind to see past the imperfections of men, too focused on the perfect features of mothers, daughters, and granddaughters…


Protectors turned predators, and in court? Both judges and defendants; no one left to be the voice of the oppressed, where is their justice?

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