Note: The purpose of this poem was for self-healing.
Rape is just a four-letter word for war,
which can hurt deep down to the core.
Your body is the battlefield,
which in time will heal.
Your soul was in action when it was killed,
survival depends on the strong-willed.
Your heart is the wounded and it's crutch is hate.
Your mind is the crippled and it's bed is anguish.
Your spirit is the missing and it's being is fear.
Which in time all will heal.
The crutch that once was hate, now is love.
The bed that once was anguish, now is peace.
The being that once was fear, now is calm.
Because in time all will heal.
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