The Girl


The girl looks, her 5'7
Sitting in Indian style position,
Drawing what she considers her
Masterpiece. Taking the cricket
And crushing his body, using
The juice that escapes
to draw from the ground
The cawing birds above her
Day, and her tears signal
The sorrow of her life,
"It's My fault," she whispers.
Thinking back to the night before,
The club party, where the
Body guard, who let her
And her 2 friends in for free,
Violated and assaulted her
In the mid set Of the night
The voices say do it, her
Heart says No, she's not
Clean anymore, In her mind.
"I'm dirty, This is only
What can make a difference."
Brick in hand, She stands
Above the pool, Smashes
The back of her Head,
And let's herself drown.
The things we do for freedom.

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