Palpated her breast, a lump in the throat.
The monster that mama and aunty smote.
Toyed with the pages of a letter she wrote,
about the time, she but crossed the moat.
Devastated and lonely in a bustling world.
To nether shores that she was hurled.
A rending stream of violating pricks.
A heart less journey through so many nicks.
Handled and mauled by alien hands,
her heart and self, now held by bands.
The grief and anguish of yet to come.
No flames are doused by bottles of rum.
Just as she stood, a woman in her own.
this saga of horror, was at her thrown.
How she hated the pitying looks.
Frantically sought the net and books.
With every passing day, the chances grim.
No more the charmers to pander a whim.
Dragged like mom, to the butchers den.
So broken she spoke of marcescent men.
Lost her spirit and her womanliness.
The warmth and feel of a loving caress.