The weakness radiated

from her limbs.

As men she hated

stopped for one more glimpse.


She shivers violently

as rough ungentle fingers

neglected her privacy.

In the night her pain lingers


She wore white

like a misleading message.

Praying one day she might,

escape this dark passage.


Where strange men,

lived beneath her,

Where men would hurt her

Again, and again, and again


Just hoping that one day,

She would disappear,

And then….


Painting: Etude pour l’Odalisque by Francine Van Hove

Posted by:A'Isha Adams

Mind of a frantic poet. Ambition of an entrepreneur. The heart of an old soul.

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