Don’t say a word!

Don’t judge me!

Don’t ask me why

I march on the streets, holding boards

Heavy with angry words.
Don’t ask me why

My voice is indignant and curt

And don’t tell me to hush

Because all my songs speak of hurt.
You weren’t there

When they took away my real books

And instead gave me the sort of education

Where my teacher was

A drunkard four times my age,

And my exams consisted of baby production.

you’re never there when the old fool pounds my dreams to pulp

and I end up with a black eye, the physical reminder

that my vision of a bright future is now fading, disappearing into

the black hole that is this life.
Don’t talk to me about culture.

You weren’t there

when at the slightest inkling of my womanhood

they took red hot stones,

placed them on my chest

and not only burned away my breast,

but put a scar on my soul,

You didn’t feel the searing pain,

When they spread my legs

And cut out my flesh,

And now I can never feel whole.

I can never feel woman enough

heck, I dont even feel human enough.


Don’t come around me

And preach about decency or

How I’m the cause of my rape.

You didn’t see when the people

I call fathers, neighbours, friends

Lifted my long skirts

And tore away at my innocence,

Day after day with no shame

And then they made me take the vow of silence.

you don’t know how many nights I cried

how many times I tried to muffle the silent screams that

in my head everytime the monster walked into my room

with an evil grin and eyes  full of hell.

I went to hell every night.


Don’t you even dare quote scripture at me.

So you know scripture?

Where was scripture

When they seized my glory

With shards of broken glass

Leaving me on the floor unwashed and crass

All because my love and partner was gone

And he had left me all alone?

when his once friendly siblings

turned into vicious canivores

sucking out the very life from me and taking everything by force?

When they took away my livelihood,

My hope, all I had that was good

And left me only with my tears

And a chair by the window,

Why didn’t you then quote scripture

About how to treat a widow?

Don’t jeer when all I ask is to be treated fairly

When all I want is for you to see clearly

That there’s blood running in my veins

Just like yours

And though you’ve hurt me,

I don’t even want revenge,

I just want remorse.