Before she had a chance to scream out loud,
above her loomed a predator she'd sate;
the horrid stench of evil breathed from cloud
of massive bulk that pinned her to the gate.
One hand about her tiny waist, pulled tight,
the other held her mouth to stifle sound;
she tried to free herself with all her might,
but failed ... he lowered her onto the ground.
She could not breathe; her face shoved in the dirt,
his roughness pawed her breasts relentlessly;
with fiendish moan he lifted high her skirt,
then plunged between her thighs persistently.
In shame, this virgin now in silence cries,
her innocence upon a dark street lies.
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Poem of the Month
Contest Winner
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Author Notes
... Sadly, this happens every day somewhere
around the world ... this write came about
after reading William Butler Yeats'
Leda and the Swan ...
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