A man's grown hands on her tiny belly;
hindering her movements to flee.
The other one on her trembling lips,
silencing her anguished pleas.
Her tiny hands, he tied it up,
as if hitting her was not enough.
She was asking for help, but to no avail.
All her attempts were futile.
Quiet he implied;
as he wiped the tears from her eyes.
He added, "A game is what were gonna play."
"Now I need you to hush, submit, and obey."
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of Me
PoetryNot your typical book of poems, simply because my mind is a dark and dangerous place. This features just that. Enjoy.
