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_My Broken Pride_
_By; Ibrahim AbdlQuadir Olayinka_
_The Intoxicated Writer_
#Say no to RAPE
#Real men don’t rape
#Ladies are treasures
#Our ladies deserves respect
How much will i continue to weep?
For this rape floor to be neat,
for how long do I sweep?
how long will it take?
can i even get back to my usual self
when desperate men has made me a lifeless soul.
I’m a living dead;
and sexual assault.
All these run through my mind,
what offence brought up this,
for being a woman,
for how long do I get pissed on.
The pains of this molestation is more than that of child labour,
the itching of my private territory,
is a pain,
and that I would never forget.
On this sorrowful ground,
my body was being molested by hard men,
yet, the ground couldn’t come to my rescue,
while been assaulted,
it stood still like a wooden rod.
I looked down to the ground,
and I am tempted to say,
why art thou betrayed a daughter of thy soil,
why didn’t you shake thyself to help me,
and yet, I got no reply.
Let he that set the fire,
knoweth that he has burnt my heart,
let he that assaulted me in the dirty ground,
knoweth that he has molested my life
and made the cage my social abode.
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