PoetrySad Poems

Trodden

His eyes scanned me through,
A smirk obviously displayed on his face,
To him I was just another prey on lace,
Rough hands pummeled me like dough.

Agonizing screams escaped my throat,
My feelings buried, my fears alive,
Weaknesses exposed, body without coat,
All I ever wished for was a quick dive.

The society put me to scorn,
Trodden was I, just like the husk of corn,
My light quenched, my life in darkness,
Stone cold, hideous, my body in starkness.

Could I still assemble the broken pieces of my life?
Who would stop the overwhelming thoughts?
They say, “Be bold and drop the imaginations of the knife!”
But still, the sore bruises rekindle fresh hurts.

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