Them little girls with little black eyes
Gazing mutely at thin scarred thighs
Walking past old church gates
Burnt passed tumbling rickety fates.
To try and smile is failing endeavor
Small legs open in prised surrender
I am their Daddy, I am the Lover
With our history, I may be the Brother.
Rage and rape go well together
Not bleeding menstrual little ones
Poke in some rump and feather
Chew those bony sugary buns.
Echoes of muffled cries finally stop
Bodies limp bloodied and bruised
Sooty tears and I push over the top
Must live some more my destiny mused.
