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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2049044-HELP
by Tammy
Rated: GC · Poetry · Dark · #2049044
A free verse about the impotent law and order of my country
10921!
Can I call you when they pounce on me,
When they pull at my attire,
Tear it away with their sharp claws,
Exposing my flesh,
Digging their nails deep into it?
Can I call you when they drench me with acid,
The hot burning liquid seeps into my vein
And I cry out in pain?
Can I call you then?
Will you hear my shrieks?
Send help?

Help was standing there,
In uniform,
With rusted rifles by their sides;
Picking their noses with the pointed bayonets.

They watched in silence
They watched my rape.

Yes your help was there
In Uniform; On duty,
When they pour acid over me.

Yet I tried to call you 10921
Alas! The lines were busy.

I tried again.
This time, they asked me hold.

And again.
Finally you answered.

'Send me help 10921'
I shouted, I cried, I pleaded.
'Go to the uniform'
Came your reply.

I obeyed,
Bleeding and burning,
With the hyenas at my heels.
But they refused to listen.

I was making things up,
They jeered.
'You ought to be raped.'
They laughed.
'That's what you are for.'
They asserted.

Their canines came out
Saliva drooled from their bloody tongues
They joined the carnival of my death.

10921! 10921!
Will I ever get help?
© Copyright 2015 Tammy (nocopper-e at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2049044-HELP