***Story Poem. Previous Links to poems in order of story.
Raising my weary head.
Wary
beaten
there is no way that I can go on.
I have failed
unable to protect
myself
or Plain Jane.
Would they have listened?
Would they have heard?
The tale of a small child
brutalized
beaten
raped
taken in turn
by those animalistic men.
I am sorry that I failed
Jane dear
tears seeping
dripping from my chin
lips quivering
I cannot go on.
We stand for the Judge’s entrance
I see my chance to go
I leap across
grab the gun
turn to face the crowd.
I knew what was going to happen
I knew it is going to hurt
but I am tired
I need to lay down my head.
Raising the gun
I point at the men
all of whom had drawn.
When shouts were ignored
I am peppered with shots
as I dropped to the floor.
Sept. 7/18
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash
***This is 2nd to last poem in this series. Please read previous posts to fully experience this point of view. 🙂