Shame

 

I let my skin be seen, therefore a slut;

My own makeup, assumed to be for man.

The way I walk, the way I talk, now smut,

So am I now viewed as harlot, well damn.  

But as I dawn his garb, clothing modest,

I give, sucumb to forceful patriarch,

Lose thy control, despite his dishonest  

Lies fed of how he shields thee from men’s bark,

For we are told tis our fault wolves bite us.

Thou art the source of own painful disease,

Even when we’re victims, they won’t discuss,

For we have lured foul beasts and told we tease.

But do not stand for false claims of unjust

Nor shame imposed from thy assailant's lust.

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741