Friday, August 31, 2018

George Onsy writes and draws

FROM A RAPE VICTIM TO HER BODY

O my poor body
Torn apart,
Have you paid already
The highest bill
For the femaleness
You’ve been supposed
To hold with dignity?
O my poor body,
Crying in vain
To an earless justice
That only condemns
The white-weapon killers
Yet, is blind still
To the filthy dagger
That has stabbed deep
Those prohibited
Sacred depths
Of your soft fragile
Life-giving cellar.  

O my poor body,
Incurably wounded.
To live till that gloomy day
When you are to be
Smashed
Like a helpless rose
That’s always been desired,
I really wish
You wouldn’t have been born.
But, what a pity!
Why didn’t o Merciful God
Protect that femininity rose
With a deadly thorn?
 
 
 
 
 

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