Men no longer hit on farms but on hymen,
forcefully depriving them off their land,
and in terror, they bled out tears and pain.
but a man’s furious hormones knows no plea,
bittered and reign like cloud
pleasure and lust dined at his sanctuary,
the offering was made,
her body was the feast.
A feast that tasted like sour cream,
was undivinely devoured,
her thighs were evenly distinguished,
in there lay unheard treasures from heaven,
best of nutrients hid here,
so no less sweet of a feast.
Undress your beauty …
Tattoos from heavy whips on her soul
so her body never told such tales
a child is no longer a virgin
no one saw.
A woman gets raided off her treasures,
Cos she never hid them in a safe,
or rather a place unseen and unheard.
Her tears have come to stay.
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