The colour of her skin didn’t kill her,
The length of ther skirt didn’t kill her,
The date of birth on her id didnt kill her,
The time on the clock didn’t kill her,
The shape of her hips didn’t kill her,
The brilliance of her smile didn't kill her,
The lack of vermillion on her forehead didn’t kill her,
The willingness to walk the extra mile didn’t kill her.
The silence of the night didn’t kill her,
The absence of a guy didn’t kill her,
The boldness of her lips didn’t kill her.
The moon in the sky didn’t kill her,
The golden jewellery didn’t kill her,
The beasts she was warned about didn’t kill her,
The breaking of the curfew didn't kill her.
Parents asking what the scars on her arms were about didn’t kill her,
The hours in the hospital didn’t kill her,
The questioning from the police didn't kill her,
The bruises she had to hide didn’t kill her.
The judges that were bribed didn’t kill her,
Her rapist walking away free did.
YOU ARE READING
Crying Skies, Rain And Discarded Memories
Poetrymidnight silk flows from her head and a stormy sea lies in her eyes magic flows every time she speaks a crimson silence dancing across her lips
