Skip to main content

STOP!!!| by Mide Benedict

















It's right time rapist stopped their ungodly and inhuman way of achieving sexual excitements; did i just say excitement, i meant horror-filled sexual acts. It's no new news, neither is it a myth that some rapist now rape adults no longer, nor find joy in teenagers too, rather, they find it in raping little children.
They are tired of destroying old or growing trees, but have currently discovered that destroying a bud or a plant in the nursery is better than cutting down a grown one; at least no muscle will be stressed when uprooting it.
So many news headlines have run across the world pertaining to rape attacks involving fatherly ripped men and milking children: Those children who know nothing about sex, those children who have futures waiting for them and destinies to fulfil are now been reduced to toilet tissues by men of vacuum minds and hearts.

Tell me, I want to know:
What do they derive,
Is it fun
Or is it enjoyment?
What do they achieve
Is it satisfaction or records?
They rip them off their pride
And throw them to the streets
To be mocked and 'case-studified'.
They are not human,
Those that rape are beasts.
They are not men,
Those that rape are men of sin.
Don't tell, I don't want to know
Know how they feel
Or what they derive
From sucking honey dry
From the pots of young and old

After a woman is raped, it's not the act that steals away what can be called the greatest from them nor the tear that causes them most pain, rather it's the stigma, attributed to them after being discovered a rape victim.
A fiancé whose matrimonial conjunction is just two days away may abandon his fiancée because she got raped three days earlier.
This is not because she holds any fault, but because he will be considered a husband to the forced-to-be-broken pot. Therefore will rather kill the marriage rather than allowing his pride to be killed.
In some places, the rape victim is forced to marry the rapist. For them, that's justice, but for the woman, is that JUSTICE?

NOW, TO THINK OF IT, SUPPOSING THE RAPE VICTIM IS A CHILD, LIKE WE NOW HAVE TODAY, WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO HER BUDDING FUTURE DAYS!

Let us stop this violence!
Even animals know the process to follow before mating with another! Stop this murder of future mother's
Stop the killing of stars and women of greatness!


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

God and The Snail: Poetry For Some One Lost Soul

Sometimes it feels Like all is done, That this life of ours Is caught in deadly thorns: From where we cry for help in a land Where to have ears is a great taboo! But in all these... we remember...

WHO DOES THIS BELONG TO? By MIDÉ BENEDICT

This is for those Who see life as an unfair land, Where growth is fairly found only On luck's fragile and ferocious tree: It is for those whose eyes only See reality as a coin Always tossed to uncertainty: For those who see misery As an inescapable ditch, Never to be seen when its mouth agars, Never to be escaped when its venom runs, But to be delivered like a slave for a ritual, Thrown like a cotyledon into dry soil, To germinate failure like a blocked well, Hoping to salvage a droughty throat. For those whose first name is lucky, Whose last name is uncertainty And middle name misery, Know that which you know not that The poison in your tongue is The wine your life drinks; It drinks on and on till stupor calls for death And stupidity dresses its grave Like a young man before a mirror, Staring unthinkingly at his face, Till he sees greyness in his eyes. This is for those who see eye to eye With the words on this slate. Image by Midé Benedict

TIED TO FREEDOM by Mide Benedict

Don’t hold me down L ike I’m in some cave Just like a bird flies Where nothing breathes light Through a hidden dark sky L ike an existence lost in inexistence, Locked up in a bottle     T hat only lives every day in an every minute coffin Tightened with an unbreakable cover.    Free me I said, but you brought me this! What freedom is more painful than   Eye balls without sights; faith without work like To walk on a spot;                    Mountains tied to your legs   While eyes go dark                    As you walk unmoving: In a place surrounded by light;            What a freedom! Image from : http://theadventurehandbook.com