Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Her Name was Jane

Her name was Jane
She was lovely, smart, and innocent.
Her father had abused her
So she didn’t think anything of it
when her husband beat her
or forced her to have sex.

She didn’t know tenderness
Or of a love that could be kind.
She hid her split lip with lipstick
Her black eye with makeup
Yet, she could not hide her broken

And so one day she opened up.
She shared her anguish and her pain
and when she learned that love was
Pain, hurt, repent, or excuse
She held her head up high
And told her abuser
Good – bye.
                                           © Natala Orobello

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