For not RAisinG my voicE when you Are huRT
For turning MutE to demeANing jOkEs & words
I was qUiet when they called you baby, WwhorRE, bbiTCh
As if you are just breasts, legs, LiPs, ASs, a trinket, an afterthought.
I did not RAge hard enouGh, scrEaM lOUD enough
when you were abUSEd and KilLED on the side of the road.
My solemn PLea is to raisE my son to be A better man,
a son who HoNors & reSpects his motHER
will be a better fatHER to his daugHtERs, a loving man to his wife.
For if a son can KiLL his motHER in a HEARbeaT
he can Kill kILL anyone like a deMENted animal
STOP the vioLENce against woMEN.
can knife a girl
sharper than thorns, breaking
mother's heart, father's pride, brother's
use them like seeds --
gentle as snowflakes, white
candles for peace, not for mourning,
Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Today We Scream - Thanks to Susie Clevenger ~
March has been set aside by Woman Scream International Poetry Festival as the month to raise awareness through poetry about violence against women.
And D'verse Poets Pub - Short Verses - I have used a cinquain (syllabic 2-4-6-8-2) - Thanks Fred for the prompt.