Sexual Assault

One woman said it happened at four,

One girl cried they called her a whore.

One fellow whispered he felt so much shame,

One guy just shrugged, It’s me who I blame.

One shared at twenty another eighty-five,

Inwardly scarred they’re just trying to survive.

It happened at school, at a party or a bar,

A dark deserted alley or the back of a car.

He told her don’t tell or he would surely be back,

Who would believe “her” that she was attacked.

Her skirt was too short, her blouse was too low,

There’s no one to help her; no one wants to know.

Story after story victims shed their deep grief,

Dr. Ford’s testimony has brought some relief

I stand and applaud her great courage this day,

For exposing sexual assault in her own personal way.

--Ken Ferguson--

Artista di Parole