STOLEN - Part 1

We met you both in the park,
a beautiful day in spring.
My friend and I on a lark,
a red car you were driving.

Your best friend was there with you
and you seemed so cute and nice.
"Wanna ride with us you two?"
Jan and I didn't think twice.

Who was gonna sit with who?
An awkward moment occurred.
Couldn't hope it would be true
that you'd like me more than her.

Jan's always cute and funny;
I always felt so ugly.
"You sit here with me, honey."
Shocked, you were talking to me!

We talked, we laughed, we flirted
as you drove around and round.
My attention was diverted
from the unfamiliar ground.

Down a shady road we went,
I soon began to worry.
Where were we at this moment?
The park I hoped we'd hurry.

Near some woods you stopped the car
then you softly spoke to me.
Said we hadn't driven far;
you calmed my fears easily.

Jan was there in the backseat
cuddling your best friend named Gene.
I guess she really liked him;
with them kissing, it so seemed.

You said, "I really like you."
To hear that made me happy.
I thought that a kiss or two
would be nice for you and me.

Soon you tried to touch my breast.
I said, "Please no, don't do that!"
"You are just like all the rest,"
you snarled, "a teasing pussy cat!"

I was a naive sixteen.
How could I see any danger?
That he'd turn from nice to mean
just 'cause he was Bob Ranger.

A small town football hero
and a wrestling star adored.
His character near zero,
A jerk if he hasn't scored.

He thought he had a right to
grab any girl he wanted.
Futile "no's" because he knew
cruel moves that left me daunted.

He used wrestling skills honed true
on gym mats and backseat brawls.
Swiftly pinning me he knew
I could not fight him at all.

He selfishly stole from me
something that was mine, all mine.
Stole from me so easily
when my innocence was blind.

My choice to whom I could share
my very special first time.
Stolen, taken, with no care
as if it were not a crime.

It had all happened so fast,
my emotions were reeling.
I hoped the pain would soon pass
and hide what I was feeling.

Left me dazed, in shock, in pain
to wipe off his stolen blood.
Threw the towel in disdain:
"Mop up your own dirty crud!"

In silence he drove us back.
What could anybody say?
I would let no one keep track
of my tears and pain that day.

Jan tried hard to talk to me;
I told her I was okay.
I did not want her to see
thoughts I had to keep at bay.

Back then when a girl was raped
it was herself put on trial.
His actions were always caped
as something normal not vile.