Society

Society locked you behind those dismal grey bars.

Beat you down.

You an adulterous woman who needed to be stoned.

A scarlet harlot waiting for the first blow.

A stander on street corners, street corner preacher next door.

You’re a savage, a beast.

Need to be conformed.

A brute.  A menace.

An attic maniac, biting through wool.

Rabies and scabies

Scalped, scathed, scarred.

Beaten down,

smell that rotting flesh.

Dark-skinned with purply, black craters.

Leprous excommunication.

Bruised, broken, bloody goo.

You are disgusting, a band-aid won’t do.