Crushed

 

Sparkles!

What I see in every lightening.

The thunderous brooding of manhood,

fear soaked in pain,

melted hearts and rolling heads.

Freedom!

the voice that weeps

when Mr_  plays “catcha,”

her lips telling nothing,

eyes pleading

for the mad fellow

crushing her.

She dissolves into him.

Fear and pain in a fair game,

her body, the chess-board.

Groans and moans-

arrows of molestation.

He blends his skin in hers,

tearing the essence of her being.

A plucked flower,

rudely exposed to the scorching sun!